Longer than Forever
by Cyber Rogue
Summary: A shaky alliance is formed between the Autobots and Decepticons in an effort to bring peace to Cybertron. In an attempt to form this alliance, one mech and one femme must be brought together through a spark bond. One Autobot, and one Decepticon. Two Heirs, One Alliance.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day! This was a challenge from fanfiction author Lieutenant Myst.**

* * *

Optimus was a cautious mech; it's what kept him alive throughout the war. Along with the feeling of hope. The hope for a better future, a future for the younglings now orphaned, a future for peace, and a free world. But Optimus was also realistic. He knew that any hopes for peace talks with the Decepticons would never happen. But he couldn't deny the small hope that stirred within his spark. The message he had received, requesting his presence and that he come alone had burned into his processor. He had been given three days to think the offer over, before coming to a decision that he would seize this opportunity.

The day was slowly turning to night as Optimus made his way through the familiar land, his pede steps silent. He kept his senses alert, well aware that this may well be a trap. Doubt began to swirl around as he reconsidered his actions. Maybe he should have told someone what he was doing. But Elita would have wanted to come, Ironhide would have locked him up while Ratchet sedated him, declaring that his processor needed to be checked as he must have clearly lost his mind for even considering this meeting. But it was too late for him to turn back now, and he had to keep his emotions calm, or else Elita would immediately sense that something was wrong through the bond they shared.

He approached the toppled down, old ruin, his optics drawn to the lone figure leaning casually against the crumbling tower. Despite the mech's height, the tower did not give way, remaining as strong and steady as ever.

"I was not sure you would come," the silver mech said as Optimus approached.

The Prime sensed no trap as he approached the other Cybertronian, yet he remained wary. "I was not expecting for you to demand my presence," he commented.

Megatron chuckled. "Yes, well, I gave you three days to think it over." He looked at his enemy. "What made you come alone?"

Optimus looked around at the ruin, memories stirring inside both mechs. "This place holds too many fond memories for you to tarnish it with my spilled energon," Optimus said finally. "Even throughout the war, it has remained untouched by both sides."

Megatron nodded slowly, his red optics dim as if lost in thought. "This is where we would hide from our busy lives," he said, a hint of fondness in his voice. "The place we would come to discuss our strategies for approaching the council. A place where we would dream of a better future with no caste systems and corrupt government."

"What is your reason for coming here?" Optimus asked quickly. He did not need to be reminded of the times when he was at peace with his brother, the times when there was no war, and no torn bond. He could not show how this place affected him, as it would be a weakness that Megatron would exploit.

But Megatron did not look ready to fight. Instead, he looked...bored. "I grow weary of this war, Optimus. And I wish for it to come to an end."

Shock and anger stirred inside Optimus. "You wish to end this war because you are weary?" he asked, trying and failing to keep the harshness out of his tone. How many lives had been lost in this war? How many had suffered? And Megatron wanted it all to end just because he said so? Optimus also wanted peace, but at this moment, he was alert. There had to be a catch to this so called 'peace.'

But Megatron looked sincere. "Our planet will be destroyed unless a truce is made," the warlord said. "And that is no future for us. For the sparklings." He turned to look at Optimus. "It needs to end, and it needs to end now."

Optimus tried to dampen down the hope and joy he was feeling. This had to be a trick, there had to be a catch. He searched his brother's face, looking for any hidden deception. But all he saw was weariness, and...hope?

"You are hesitant," Megatron said after a short moment of silence.

"I want to believe you," Optimus confessed. "But a truce between Autobots and Decepticons; how long do you expect me to believe that will last?"

"And you are wise to be cautious," Megatron interrupted. "I would expect nothing less from you. But if you do not trust my words, then trust my actions. I have pulled my troops back, even as we speak. They are awaiting my command to either cease their fire, or return to their attacks."

Optimus's optics widened, the only sign of his surprise. "The Decepticons are that willing to surrender?"

"Not surrender," Megatron snapped. "Negotiate. There will be no winner in this war, only a meager peace treaty." He paused. "And yes, I have been having some uprisings. But Soundwave and Barricade are taking care of it."

Optimus narrowed his optics. "And what treaty would you have in mind?"

Megatron hesitated, the only sign of his nervousness that Optimus could see. Nothing ever concerned Megatron, just what had him so worried?

"My...advisors have talked this out with me," he said finally. "And they believe the best course of action would be to unite the Autobot and Decepticon younglings in the hopes of...creating healthy and safe relationships."

"You mean an alliance between a mech and femme through a spark bond," Optimus said bluntly.

Megatron's shoulders sagged with relief, and had the circumstances been any different, Optimus would have been amused at the warlord's reaction. "Yes, quite so."

Optimus's mind was spinning now as he processed this information. Was this some ploy the Decepticons had come up with? If so, then what had they hoped to gain? Other then to kill the Autobot leader of course, but why come up with this type of proposal? Surely there were other, more creative ways to get Optimus's guard down. But he saw no deception in Megatron, no dishonesty. But then again, hadn't his thoughts been the same when they went to face the Council? Everyone had been surprised at the sudden change in Megatron and his thirst for power.

Yet, there was that small part in Optimus, the part that would always remain Orion Pax. The part that yearned for peace. Peace for Elita and his friends. Peace for the younglings they had taken in. Peace for the future. It was a small voice inside his head that started as an enticing whisper, only to grow into a loud demand. A plea.

"If this were to happen," Optimus said slowly, phrasing his words carefully. "What would you hope to gain?"

Megatron blinked. "Only to have peace between the Autobots and Decepticons, and to stop this destructive war."

"But there would still be the Autobot and Decepticon faction," Optimus pointed out. Both he and Megatron knew that there were Cybertronians on both sides who wouldn't settle for anything less than either side on top. For some, victory was the only way to achieve peace.

Megatron nodded. "I have thought it out as well and have come to the conclusion that with hope, the newest generation will grow up not knowing of the war and the feud as we do. Autobot and Decepticon would merely be a name between two different factions of the past."

Optimus considered it for a moment. "You hope to create a mixed faction."

Megatron nodded. "Exactly."

The Prime frowned. "And who is to say you won't try to corrupt this younger generation, and take over the faction?"

Megatron sighed, pain flickering in his optics. "Because it would not be me leading the faction." He suddenly looked at Optimus, sharply. "You have a son, am I correct?"

Optimus was thrown back by the sudden question. "What? No!" He and Elita had decided not to bring a sparkling into this war torn world, no matter how much they both wanted one. They found their own ways of raising sparklings with the orphans that were brought in. It was that very fear of orphaning their child that prevented them from having one in the first place.

"But you have taken in a sparkling, and are raising it, correct?" Megatron persisted.

Optimus went still. "How would you know that?" he demanded, his tone low and dangerous.

"I have my ways," Megatron said simply. "But have you named him as your own?"

But Optimus was not going to answer that question now. "You will tell me what your reason for this is," he growled, his servos flexing, ready to form into a sword.

"Because," Megatron started. And was that a tremble in his voice? "That sparkling and another chosen Decepticon will merge the Autobots and Decepticons together, uniting us all and ending the turmoil."

Optimus's gaze turned hard. "Sacrificing two innocent sparklings?"

"My inner circle won't settle for less," Megatron said, bitterness in his tone.

"And you are willing to go through with it?"

"It is not like I have a choice," Megatron snapped. "I didn't want it to happen this way. But my servos are tied and this is the only way."

There was true pain in his optics, and desperation. His red optics searched Optimus's, silently pleading for him to understand. Optimus resisted taking a step back in shock. This...this Cybertronian was not the enemy he knew. This was a changed mech, fighting for something else.

"Who changed you?" Optimus found himself asking.

Megatron's optics narrowed. "Please, consider my offer, Optimus Prime. It may be the only hope we have for a better future. And not just for ourselves, but for the lives of the sparklings that have yet to wield a weapon in war." He turned, as if to leave, before looking back. "I will be here, waiting for your reply. Talk it over with your closest allies if you must." And with that, he stepped off the ledge, transforming as he did so before zooming off.

Optimus didn't know how long he stood there, alone in the ruins. But he soon found himself walking past the large rocks, his pede steps slow and thoughtful. Movement to his right caught his attention, and it wasn't until he felt the familiar spark signature did he lower his weapons. Elita-One strode forward and out of the shadows, a sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. Her gaze was sharp and curious as she regarded her mate.

Despite what had just happened, Optimus smiled. "I'm surprised you found me."

She huffed. "Optimus, we have been bonded for forever and a day. I know when you're trying to hide something." She frowned. "But I never would have thought you would be conversing with Megatron on such civil matters."

Optimus's smile grew as he shook his helm in amusement. "You were watching the whole time."

"With a rifle pointed at Megatron's helm," she said simply. She then looked at him, silently asking what was going on. Optimus sighed, gesturing for her to follow him. His explanation was short and simple, while his mate said nothing as she listened intently.

Her blue optics hardened. "How did he know about Bumblebee?" she demanded.

Optimus could not provide a clear answer. Elita was fond of the sparklings they brought in, and she cherished them all. But the little yellow sparkling held a special place in her spark. How Megatron had found that out was disturbing enough. "I do not know," he replied.

Elita frowned thoughtfully. She glanced at Optimus. "What are you going to do?"

"The idea of peace is appealing," he confessed. "Yet, it seems too good to be true."

She nodded. "We've been fighting for so long. Even if you were to accept this peace treaty, there will be challenges up ahead. It won't be easy."

Optimus nodded. "Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy. There are war criminals on both sides that will need to be dealt with. Cities will have to be reopened, leaders will need to step down from their positions."

Elita was silent for a moment, and Optimus could sense the turmoil and reluctance in her through the bond they shared. "It involves Bumblebee," she said finally, worry in her voice.

Optimus nodded, his own thoughts plagued with images of the innocent sparkling. "Yes, I believe it does."

She shook her helm. "We can't do it," she said firmly. "We can not send him away."

Optimus looked at her. "We will not," he said. "But I do not think Megatron expects us to."

She looked at him. "You're considering this?" There was no judgement in her tone, but the image of Bumblebee in her arms flashed through his mind. Yes, Bumblebee might not be theirs biologically, but he might as well have been. They loved the sparkling dearly, and Optimus and Elita were not the only ones to raise Bumblebee. There was Ironhide, Chromia, Ratchet and Jazz to consider. It had been a group effort in taking care of the sparkling. And there were times in when Jazz would argue with Chromia on when he got to take care of him. Despite what Jazz said, he loved the sparkling and would lock him up in a tower if he could. Ironhide would probably attach Bumblebee to his chassis if he thought it would keep him safe.

"Peace is worth considering," he said finally.

Elita said nothing, her expression unreadable. She just slipped her servo into his, the couple content in the silence and in their own thoughts as they continued home.

* * *

The arguments had been swift and fierce, with Ratchet being the most vocal as he was against using a sparkling in a peace treaty. But in the end, they all decided that it would be worth considering. Optimus met with Megatron in the next three days, his answer ready. During that time, no blaster fire had been shot, no bombs had gone off and no warships flew overhead. It had been a few, shaky peaceful days.

If it could even be called that.

Adjustments had been made. Such as only a select few knowing which sparklings had been chosen as the heirs to the Decepticon and Autobot agreement. Optimus and his inner circle met Megatron's unannounced heir when the warlord met them in a hidden bunker. At first, Optimus had been shocked to see his former brother cradling a sparkling, as if she was the most delicate thing he had ever held. His movements were gentle, almost as if he was afraid to disturb her. Her tiny frame was almost lost in his large arms, though his face was soft whenever he looked at her. In that moment, seeing Megatron with the sleeping sparkling, Optimus understood the warlord's motives for peace.

"She wasn't breathing when I found her," Megatron said when he and Optimus were alone. "She was wedged underneath the rubble, and I held her close for two days and three nights as I traveled across enemy territory. On the last night, I felt her spark reach out to mine, drawing in the strength she needed to survive."

Optimus looked down at the tiny femme, her blue and pink tinted body small and bright. "I do not expect you to give your sparkling up," Megatron said. "But I do expect him to be aware of his destiny."

Optimus nodded, his spark suddenly heavy. "That would be the wisest course of action."

"There are some who would rather wish that this union not take place," Megatron pointed out.

"Which is why we have made extra precautions," Optimus said. It had been decided that there would be a selected group of sparklings who would also take part in the treaty, in order to hide the identities of the heirs for safety reasons.

"But we will not force them into going along with it if they do not want to," Chromia argued one time, her optics hard. It was no secret that she was against this. But in the end, she saw that it was the only way to achieve peace without any further energon spilled.

Megatron nodded. "I agree, as their roles is only just a cover up. But the only real union that matters is the bond between the Autobot and Decepticon Heirs."

Chromia's optics narrowed, as if she wanted to argue more, but she stayed silent. That was part of the agreement that could not be changed. That was the agreement that could change the future for the better.

The announcement of the fragile peace was made to Cybertron a few days after the treaty was signed, and surprisingly, it was met with relief. Many Cybertronians were tired and wanted the fighting to end. Many wanted to return to the lives they remembered before the war, and a time where there was no more blood shed. Yet, there were many who only knew war, and refused to acknowledge peace. Those were the ones who caused the trouble. Autobots and Decepticons soon found themselves aiding each other in an effort to stop the small rebellions. Trust was not easy, and Optimus doubted it would ever come to the older generation.

Megatron and the Decepticons resided in Kaon, while a majority of the Autobots stayed in Iacon, or what used to be the large city. Many returned home in the hopes to rebuild, but they never strayed far from their respective cities. It was almost as if they were afraid to step out of line and cause another war all over again. Some were afraid that it was all a fragile dream that would shatter at any moment.

All these memories swirled around Optimus as he watched his mate, her back turned to him. She was cradling something, something precious. He approached her, knowing without looking that it was Bumblebee she was holding. His wide, innocent blue optics stared back up at them, oblivious to the fate he was destined to.

Optimus mentally shook his helm. He had to stop thinking of it as a death sentence. Bumblebee was a beacon of hope, meant to usher in a peaceful future. Yet, Optimus couldn't help but feel like he was leading an innocent to the slaughter.

"Will he hate us for what we have done?" Elita asked, gazing down at the sparkling.

Optimus blinked. He wanted to deny it. And yet, this sparkling's mate had been chosen for him already. What if it were an unhappy bond? In all likelihood, it wouldn't be one out of love like his and Elita's, or Chromia's and Ironhide's. Yet, it had been done, and there was no way to change it.

Guilt swarmed around in his spark, and he found that he couldn't look at the sparkling in his mate's arms. He should have been the one to finish the war, not Bumblebee; an innocent sparkling who couldn't even talk yet. Ironhide and Chromia were only speaking to him when necessary, and Jazz remained dull and silent. Ratchet just regarded him with sadness, as if he dreaded what was coming. The only one who hadn't changed toward him was Elita, and he was grateful for it. He could count on her to speak her mind, and to fight for what was right. He could count on her for challenging him when he made a decision she thought was wrong, and to support him when he needed it. That was the type of mate Bumblebee deserved, the type of mate Optimus wanted him to have.

Elita leaned into him, and Optimus wrapped his arms around her and the sparkling. He closed his optics, pretending that they were just a normal family, with no war and no treaties getting in the way of life. Just for a moment, and he was at peace.


	2. Chapter 1

"I don't know Smokes," Bumblebee started hesitantly, looking around. "I mean, I don't think we should even be here." The building they found themselves in was full of mechs and femmes either dancing, or playing games that the young Autobot was not familiar with. It was dark, the lighting dim, and Bumblebee stuck close to his companions as he was jostled around. A small part of him wanted to turn back and go home, while he knew that he would never find his way out without his friends.

Smokescreen held his servos up. "Hey, I wasn't the one who suggested we come here."

"No, but you were the one to drag me along," the yellow Autobot pointed out, moving past a group of femmes. "Why did you guys even need to bring me here?"

"Because if we get caught, you can talk Prime out of our punishments," Hot Rod said with a grin. "Now come on! The night is still young." And with a whoop, the young mech jumped into the crowd.

Smokescreen groaned. "Prowl's gonna kill me," he muttered.

Bumblebee snorted. "Think what Optimus will do to me when he finds out."

Smokescreen shot him a look. "You mean, if he finds out."

Bumblebee shook his helm. "No, he will find out."

Smokescreen stared at him before letting out a sigh. "You're going to tell him, aren't you?"

"I won't have to. He'll find out eventually."

Smokescreen snorted. "Unless Chromia get's to us first. Seriously, that femme can smell trouble a mile away!"

"Yo bros!" Hot Rod shouted. "Worry about politics later!"

Smokescreen and Bumblebee traded guilty looks, their minds flashing back to their guardians. Bumblebee knew how Optimus would feel about two of his Selected Cybertronians sneaking out. Though Hot Rod knew about the predicament his two friends were in, he didn't see it as too much of a big deal for them.

Hot Rod came over, dragging the two reluctant mechs into the crowd. "We should probably head back," Smokescreen shouted, his optics flickering around, almost as if he expected his guardian to pop out of nowhere.

Hot Rod nudged the white and red rimmed Cybertronian. "Relax, your guardians don't even know you're here. It's like they've been placing you in a protective cage or something."

Bumblebee bristled, reminding himself that Hot Rod meant no offense. He never felt restricted in his life. Optimus always found time for him, even during important meetings, though Bumblebee had stopped nagging him as he got older, understanding that the Prime had more important things to do. But that never stopped Optimus from putting everything on hold when he thought Bumblebee needed him. The same went for Elita and Chromia; his two mothers, as different as night and day. Chromia had been the one to teach him self defense, while Elita had been the one to teach him how to fight with words. Ironhide and Prowl were the overprotective mechs, and Bumblebee's found memories were of Jazz stealing him away from a sleeping Ironhide. Ratchet had always scared him when he was younger, as the medic's visit always included a sharp needle. But the gruff mech was just as dear to Bumblebee as everyone else.

"She looks pretty," he heard Hot Rod comment. He looked up to see a pretty purple femme smiling kindly at him. He looked away, not wanting to seem rude, yet not wanting to invite her presence.

Smokescreen shifted uncomfortably. "Um, Hot Rod…"

Hot Rod held up his servos. "I know, it was just an observation." The mech glanced at them with...was that pity? Bumblebee resisted a sigh that was threatening to break forth. This is why he didn't want to come to any large social events that involved young Cybertronians his age. Social events meant meeting other Cybertronians, maybe even a femme. Meeting a femme meant possibly developing feelings that he wasn't supposed to have, save for the one femme that had already been picked for him. The one femme he hadn't even met.

"But it's not like they can force you guys," Hot Rod continued. "I mean, none of you are the Heirs."

Bumblebee inwardly winced. While it was true that Smokescreen was free to say no to the femme he was betrothed too, Bumblebee was not. But that was something he had to keep to himself. And Smokescreen felt a strong sense of honor to Optimus, saying he wanted to meet the femme before he made any rash decisions. Plus, the fact that Bumblebee showed no intentions of backing out from being a Selected gave Smokescreen the courage to stay with his friend.

"I almost feel bad for the poor chump that has to bond with the Decepticon Heir," Hot Rod said.

Now, Bumblebee winced. "She might not be so bad," he said. At least, he hoped not. For his sake.

"It was a stupid arrangement in the first place," Hot Rod argued.

'Stupid' was exactly how he had heard Chromia describe it many times. While everyone had adjusted to the treaty, he still heard snippets of arguments floating around. Not like years ago, when he was a youngling sneaking down the halls, only to stop when he heard the screaming, the pleas. He had stopped, recognizing Chromia's and Optimus's voices. Optimus was pleading with the blue femme to understand, while Chromia shouted back how 'it wasn't fair' and how 'he never stood a chance.' Bumblebee had at that moment stood frozen when Chromia stormed out of the room, heading away from where Bumblebee was. She was so blinded by her rage, that she hadn't even detected his presence. He was still grateful to this day that his guardian had not seen him.

But the sight of a dejected Optimus was forever burned in his processor. It was why he held no anger or hate toward his guardians. Because he understood how important it was for them to attain peace. And he had seen how Optimus fought for him in front of the Decepticon Council. It showed him that Optimus only wanted the best for Bumblebee. This arrangement was, in a way, more painful to his guardians then it was for him.

Smokescreen shrugged. "I guess...we can hang out for a bit."

Bumblebee nudged his friend playfully, trying to help lighten the mood. "There's no harm in having fun. As long as we stay out of trouble."

Smokescreen snorted. "Yeah, trouble usually finds us anyway."

* * *

"Look at those two mechs," Ark said, pointing.

Arcee looked in the direction her friend was pointing and smiled. "They look so stiff," she commented. Indeed, the two mechs they were now watching looked lost and uncertain as they shifted in the shadows, away from other Cybertronians. One mech happened to look up, catching her optic. Arcee smiled again before making her way over to him, noticing how he seemed startled that she was even coming over.

"You new here?" she asked, her tone friendly.

"Um, no. We've been here before," the yellow mech said quickly.

Arcee grinned. "Really? Then you must be looking forward to the races."

The mech blinked. "The races? Oh! Yes, I am. It sounds like...fun."

Arcee smiled again but dropped the subject. She didn't want to make these mechs feel any more uncomfortable than they already were. She stuck her servo out. "I'm Arcee," she said.

"Bumblebee," the mech said, shaking her servo. "My friend Smokescreen is the one who wandered off." He gestured to the white mech who was now chatting excitedly to one of the racers.

"Did you come here with Hot Rod?" she asked, aware that the conversation was slipping. She knew how to converse with others, as it was one of the etiquette lessons Soundwave insist that she learn.

Bumblebee cocked his helm. "Yeah, you know him?"

She nodded. "Not personally. But we know how he races." She chuckled. "He can never pass third place in any of them."

Bumblebee grinned, some of the tension releasing from his shoulders. "You race?" he asked, interested.

She shrugged. "I dabble when I feel like it."

"Most of the time, she doesn't feel like it," Ark piped up, joining in on the conversation.

Arcee rolled her optics. "Thank you for that bit of information," she said. She looked back at Bumblebee. "How about you? Do you race?"

Bumblebee beamed. "Sometimes, mostly when it's a dare or for fun. I like to think I'm pretty fast. My friend Blur though will beat anyone anytime."

"When he's either talking or driving," Smokescreen said, coming over.

Arcee grinned, placing a servo on her hip. "I'll take that as a challenge," she said.

"He'll take you up on it," Bumblebee said, matching her grin.

Ark cocked her helm, her optics twinkling with interest. "What part of the city are you from? Your accents are hard to place." Arcee frowned, glancing at her protector with a raised optic. Why was she always so suspicious? And what did placing these two mechs accents have to do with anything?

"We're from Iacon," Bumblebee said, unfazed, though she could see the way he stiffened up again. "With our guardians busy, Hot Rod thought it would be a good idea to slip away."

Arcee frowned. "Iacon? Where-?" She was cut short when a sudden, loud 'bang' startled everyone. Arcee looked up to see a group of large mechs emerge through the doorway, their expressions fierce.

"I thought you said this place wasn't illegal," she heard Smokescreen whisper to Bumblebee.

"Blame Hot Rod," Bumblebee hissed.

"Don't worry about it," Ark said. "This happens most of the time anyway." She tugged on Arcee's arm, leading her toward one of the nearest exits.

"If we shouldn't worry about it, then why are you two leaving?" Smokescreen asked, quickly following the femmes.

"Because Ark can be a little over protective when it comes to things like this," Arcee said, yanking her arm out of Ark's grip, glaring at the other femme.

"I think we should go," a sudden voice said. Another mech showed up, pushing Bumblebee and Smokescreen toward the exit, nearly causing them to bump into the two femmes. "Nice meeting ya ladies, but we gotta go," the mech said.

"Okay, should we be worried or not?" Smokescreen demanded.

"You two should be," the mech hissed. "Jazz and Prowl are here."

Arcee's optics narrowed. Jazz and Prowl? She recognized those names, and apparently, so did Bumblebee and Smokescreen. The two mechs optics widened before they bolted, running out the door.

"As I said before," the mech said, whom Arcee assumed was Hot Rod. "It was nice to meet you ladies, but we've-"

"Hot Rod!" Bumblebee growled, yanking on the other mech's arm and dragging him away. He gave Arcee a small smile. "It was nice meeting you," he said, before breaking out into a run.

Ark raised an optic brow. "Well, that was interesting," she commented. Arcee nodded, watching as the three Cybertronians ran down the hallway. She looked back up to see the mech she recognized as Prowl came over, his blue optics scanning the room as if he were looking for something. He looked up, his optics narrowing before he quickly left the room.

"Autobots?" Ark asked, looking at her charge. Both femmes were thinking about the three mechs they had just met. The room had been a bit to dim for her to see any Autobot or Decepticon insignia, but she wondered just what had Bumblebee and Smokescreen done to attract the attention of Prowl and Jazz, two of Optimus's closest comrades.

Arcee nodded. "Or they could be Decepticons running from the Autobots," she said.

* * *

"We are so dead we're so dead, we're so dead!" Smokescreen kept chanting as they ran. Bumblebee was surprised that the white Autobot managed to talk and run without sounding out of breath.

"Stop saying that!" Hot Rod bellowed, shoving them down another hallway. "We are not going to die. It's not like we were doing anything wrong."

"We snuck out," Bumblebee pointed out. "That alone could get us in trouble. We didn't even have a escort!"

Hot Rod glared at them. "You have me as your escort."

"I doubt Prowl will see you as a responsible one," Bumblebee said.

Hot Rod rolled his optics. "I can be responsi-" He stopped when he spotted two mechs up ahead, his face lighting up. "Good news boys," he said cheerfully. "I got us a way out of here...maybe."

Smokescreen scowled. "Maybe?" he demanded.

"Yo! Sunny! Sides," Hot Rod called out, approaching the two mechs. "My main bros."

"Main bros?" Smokescreen whispered to Bumblebee with a frown. "I thought we were his main bros!"

"Don't call me Sunny," the yellow mech said to Hot Rod. "And I'm not sure we're even bros anymore."

Hot Rod frowned. "You still carrying a grudge about your paint? It was an accident!"

"As is this encounter," Sunstreaker said with a huff, turning away. Sideswipe grabbed his brother before the yellow mech could walk away.

"Okay," Hot Rod started, pleasantries gone. "These two mechs need your help, as they're kinda in trouble with Prowl at the moment," he said, gesturing to Bumblebee and Smokescreen. Bumblebee frowned. He wouldn't exactly say they were in 'trouble' with Prowl. The worst their punishment could be was extra rounds of workout with Chromia.

Sunny raised an optic ridge in interest. "What'd ya do to get in trouble with Prowl?"

Hot Rod shot his friends an apologetic look. "They're part of the Selection," he said.

Both mechs were eyeing them with sudden respect now. "That's cool," Sideswipe said casually, but Bumblebee could see the way he regarded them, as if they were completely different beings.

Smokescreen groaned. "That bit of information is not something we like sharing with total strangers."

"Strangers no more," Sunny chirped happily. "Ya need us to get rid of Prowl and Jazz? You got it!" And with that, the twins ran the opposite way Bumblebee and his friends had come from.

Smokescreen frowned. "Uh, wha-?"

Hot Rod pushed him forward. "Later, right now, you need to focus on escape."

"Stop making it sound like we committed a crime!" Smokescreen exclaimed.

Hot Rod raised an optic ridge. "You're running, aren't you?"

"Because you told us too!" Smokescreen said.

"Stop complaining," Hot Rod said, looking around as a sliding door opened. Bumblebee had to admit, he was relieved that this night was over before it had even begun. But his relief was dashed when Hot Rod pushed them back inside the building.

"Hey!" Bumblebee exclaimed as he stumbled back. "What are you doing?"

"Prowl's out there," Hot Rod hissed. He looked up, pressing his finger near his audio receptor. He frowned as he answered the comm link call, his optics flickering over to Bumblebee and Smokescreen. He sighed in disappointment, lowering his servo. "Which mech would you prefer to get in trouble with? Prowl or Jazz?"

Bumblebee blinked. "I thought you said we could avoid them."

Hot Rod shook his helm. "We can only avoid one, not both. The twins would like you to make your decision fast, or they'll make it for you."

Bumblebee and Smokescreen didn't even think twice. "Jazz," they said simultaneously. "Love my guardian," Smokescreen said. "Hate his punishments."

Bumblebee nodded. "With luck, Jazz will go easy on us."

Hot Rod nodded. "Jazz it is." He then lead them back into the room they had previously left, all three trying to act casual. "With luck," Hot Rod said. "We won't even run into-"

"Bumblebee?" a sudden voice asked in surprise.

All three mechs winced and Bumblebee slowly turned to face one of his guardian's. "Jazz!" he said with forced cheer. "It's...what a surprise to see you here!"

The silver autobot blinked. "I can say the same with you." He then smirked. "Enjoying the party?"

Bumblebee blinked. "The party? You're not...upset?" He yelped when Hot Rod elbowed him in the sides.

Jazz laughed. "Why would I be? You're allowed to go where ever you please. As for me, I came to pick up a few troublemakers." He eyed the three Cybertronians. "You haven't seen the bots that go by the names of Sunny and Sides anywhere, have you?"

Bumblebee blinked. "Sunny and Sides?"

"Nope!" Hot Rod said dismissively, pushing his two friends toward the exit. "As a matter of fact, we have not." He paused. "But I would highly recommend looking for them at the race track."

Jazz wrinkled his face. "The old dirt road?"

Hot Rod shrugged. "Hey, it's where most of the mechs go."

"But Sunny would never go near that place," Jazz said, confused.

"But Sides would," Hot Rod said. "You find one twin, you'll find the other."

Jazz nodded. "True." He then looked at Bumblebee and Smokescreen who were standing nearby, both trying not to look guilty. "You two have fun, and enjoy yourselves."

"Thanks," Bumblebee muttered as they left the silver bot behind.

"Next time," Smokescreen grumbled. "We'll just tell someone where we are going, now that we know we won't get in trouble for being out."

Bumblebee frowned. "Why did we even think we'd get in trouble in the first place?"

"Because I was raised by Prowl and you were raised by Ironhide," Smokescreen said simply.

Bumblebee sighed, rolling his optics. "True."

"So," Hot Rod started. "That femme you were talking to looked really nice."

Smokescreen glared. "Hot Rod," he warned.

"Hey, it's an innocent comment," he said, looking back at Bumblebee.

"We didn't even talk much," Bumblebee pointed out.

"Yeah, but I've seen her around," Hot Rod said. "She's a regular visitor, though she's not from around here."

Bumblebee frowned. "Arcee is not from Iacon? How do you know that?"

He shrugged. "She said so. But all I'm saying is that you guys should come back to this place, it'll be good for you to mingle."

"And just who would you mingle with?" a sudden, familiar voice demanded.

All three mechs froze as they looked up to see Prowl glaring down at them. "Hi Prowl," Smokescreen squeaked.

"I know where Sunny and Sides are," Hot Rod said helpfully, eager to throw the other two mechs under the bus.


	3. Chapter 2

Arcee grumbled under her breath as she shifted through the datapads at the table. Picking one up, she began to read. But barely a minute passed before the words began to blur together, and the information she was supposed to be gathering didn't even make it through her procesor. She sighed, sitting back in her chair and looking around at the large Iacon building. Kicking her feet absent-mindedly, she reached for her comm link.

"Mirage," she said as a way of greeting.

 _"Not even on the list,"_ the voice replied in amusement. _"And hello to you too."_

She smiled. "You finished the meeting?" she asked, tilting her helm back.

 _"It was delayed, so no,"_ Megatron said, and she could hear the frustration in his voice. _"We have not even started."_

She frowned. "Delayed? Why?"

 _"When I meet with Optimus, which should be any minute, I'll ask him,"_ Megatron answered.

Arcee nodded to herself. She was silent, content with just listening to Megatron. _"You're avoiding something,"_ Megatron said, and she could tell he was grinning.

Arcee grimaced. "No, not really. I'm just stuck on the subject on 'scraplets'."

 _"Scraplets?"_

"I lost a bet," she explained. "I have to do a study on scraplets and present it to a group of younglings."

 _"Teaching young Cybertronians about scraplets,"_ Megatron mused. _"And you haven't thought about asking Soundwave?"_

"He won't help me," she said. "Something about me cheating on this little game of ours." She paused. "In my defense, he didn't lay any ground rules when we started."

She heard Megatron chuckle. _"Arcee,"_ he started. _"If Soundwave does not want you finding out about those in the Selection, then you'll never find anything."_

"He's let me find a few," she said. Because as much as it irked her to admit it, she knew that she could never break through Soundwave's defenses. Her hacking skills were no match for the Decepticon spy-master. She knew he had only let her succeed in receiving a small portion of the list of those in the Selection, only because he felt sorry for her and wanted an opponent. "So far, I've eliminated the possibilities down to twenty-seven."

 _"Only twenty-seven Selected Autobot mechs?"_ Megatron asked.

Arcee frowned, sitting up. "There's more?"

Megatron hummed. _"There would have to be an equal amount of mechs and femme Autobots for the Selected Decepticons. But that would depend on those who would bother to stay in the long run."_

Arcee nodded to herself. "True. But the twenty-seven I've found are those close to Prime."

 _"Then I'm sure you'll find your future mate among the twenty-seven,"_ Megatron said simply. _"Shouldn't be too hard for you."_

Arcee growled. "Megatron-"

 _"I believe the meeting is about to start,"_ he interrupted. _"Besides, I would hate to keep you from your interesting...study."_

Arcee sighed when he cut the connection, staring back at her gathered datapads. Sitting up from her seat, she walked around the room, scanning the shelves. Her optics were dim with boredom when a flash of color caught her optic. She looked up to see a familiar yellow mech carrying a stack of datapads.

Frowning, she walked over to him. "Bumblebee?" she started, hoping she got the name right.

The mech looked up at the sound of his name, his optics falling on her. He frowned, as if trying to remember her name. "Arcee, right?" he asked.

She nodded with a smile, glad to have the escape from her 'studies.'. "I have to say, I was not expecting to see you walking around as a free mech after last night."

He chuckled. "Prowl was surprisingly merciful last night. Our minor punishments are...minor."

"And your punishment is sorting through datapads?" she asked, nodding at the stack he was carrying.

He groaned. "Yes! Honestly, I can not believe Optimus did all this for a living before the war. It is such a pain! And the worse part is that the archivists will come in and tell me what I did wrong and have me resort the whole shelf!" He paused. "Alright, I guess my punishment is not so minor." He stopped, noticing the datapad she was carrying. "You studying scraplets?" he asked, cocking his helm. He looked confused, as to why anyone would want to study such a creature.

She grimaced. "Yeah," she said.

He grinned. "May I ask you why?"

"I lost a bet," she explained. "So I have to do a study on scraplets and present it to a bunch of younglings."

Bumblebee blinked. "And may I ask you what the bet was?"

"No, you may not," she said. She sighed. "Bottom line is, I have nothing to present, and everything is due tomorrow."

Bumblebee chuckled. "I think the point is just to humiliate you."

"Oh it is," she said with a goan.

Bumblebee set the datapads down. "Can a offer some suggestions?" he asked.

Arcee frowned, cocking her helm. "Sure." Whatever he had to offer had to at least be something more than what she had dug up so far.

He gestured for her to follow him to a certain part of the shelves in the room. "I do not know much," he confessed. "But I do know that scraplets, according to legend and lore, were the creations of Leige Maximo."

She frowned, interested. "The deceiver?" She paused. "Actually, that does make sense."

He shrugged. "I guess. But it is only legend. But you could put some interesting facts in there."

She glanced at him. "I'm sure I could come up with something that will entertain the younglings."

Bumblebee grinned, a mischievous glint in his optics. "You could always present the younglings with a scraplet."

Arcee stopped, slowly staring at him in shock before realizing he was only joking. "I'm sure that will go over well with the teachers," she commented, the very image disturbingly funny.

He shrugged. "It would make the whole study much more interesting." Arcee found it a bit amusing how the conversation of a creature so deadly could be taken so lightly. She had never really seen a scraplet before, except for that one incident when Soundwave and Barricade had come running into her room when she was a sparkling once. They had scooped her up and ran out of the building while Megatron went in with blasters blazing. She had tried to see the smoking remains of the scraplet, but she had simply been marched out of her room. It was the only time she had ever seen Megatron so terrified. Even Soundwave looked uneasy.

"When it comes to scraplets," Bumblebee said, jolting out of her thoughts. "There is never just one. They always come in packs. They send in the scouts first to find the meal, before the rest of them swarm in on their prey."

She grimaced. "Much like an army," she commented, her mind already coming up with ways to present it to the younglings.

He nodded. "It does seem that way. However, once they catch sight of any metal, they become like mindless beasts, and all they can think about is their next meal."

She glanced at him. "It sounds like you had your own personal experience."

"Primus, no," Bumblebee exclaimed, startled. "But I've heard stories from one of my guardians, and he is adamant about things like that." He paused, glancing up. "I never thought I would be studying about scraplets with anyone," he confessed.

Arcee chuckled. "It's a strange world we live in," she said. "Though I do enjoy this change in scenery."

Bumblebee looked at her with curiosity. "You are not from around here?"

Arcee inwardly braced herself. She knew Bumblebee was an Autobot from the mark on his shoulder, and she was wondering just how he would react to her being a Decepticon. Not that she was ashamed or shy at who she was, but she enjoyed Bumblebee's company despite only knowing him for a short while. "I am from Kaon," she answered simply, casually watching for his reaction.

Instead, Bumblebee looked interested. "Really? I've visited Kaon a few times." She could detect the pride in his voice. Travel was hard these days, and only a select few could travel to different cities. For Bumblebee to go to Kaon meant that he was of some nobility.

"It is quite lovely...at times," Arcee said. She did not need to say there were still parts of Kaon that was not safe for anyone to go to. Megatron was very clear on where she was to go, and Soundwave and Ark made sure she obeyed. Not that she would ever disobey Megatron. He was skilled in what he did and never did anything without good reason. She trusted his judgement and understood that he had more wisdom than her. If he said she should tread carefully, then she would tread carefully.

"So what brings you to Iacon?" Bumblebee asked. "The sights? The ever present noise?" His tone was light and teasing. For some reason, Arcee took it as a playful challenge.

"The politics," she said with a grin.

Bumblebee blinked, not expecting that answer. "You are a politician?"

She braced herself again. He might not care that she was a Decepticon, but Cybertronians seemed to change their attitude when they found out that she was a Selected. "Something like that," she said slowly.

She could see the gears working in Bumblebee's head, before his bright blue optics widened. "You're a Selected," he said softly.

"Yep," she said slowly.

His smile softened. "So am I."

Now it was Arcee's turn to be surprised. She had never met a Selected Autobot before, and she couldn't deny that she was curious. "Really?" she asked, her voice rising. When she received glares from nearby Cybertronians for the noise, she lowered her voice. "How?"

His optics twinkled. "Well, I was a sparkling when the great Optimus Prime chose me to-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," she interrupted, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I meant…" She trailed off. "Actually, I don't know what I meant."

He shrugged good naturally. "That's fine. I'm used to it." He eyed her. "And I have no doubt that you are too."

She rolled her optics. "You have no idea. Sometimes I feel as if I am being observed, as if being a Selected has made me a different creature."

"I never quite felt that way," Bumblebee said thoughtfully. "I just feel as if everyone's perspective of me changes, like they feel sorry for me."

She frowned. "Why would they feel sorry for you? Is it because you're bonding to a Decepticon?" She tried not to feel insulted, she really did, but it wasn't working.

He shrugged. "I guess that's what some think. But most others just feel sorry for the fact that there are things in life already chosen out for me. Some might view it as a terrifying part in life, bonding with someone you do not know."

Arcee frowned thoughtfully. Truth be told, she had been more annoyed then terrified. But what Bumblebee said had some truth for her. Her annoyance was just a cover up of how uncertain she was about the whole arrangement. There were things in her life she could control, such as when she awoke or went into recharge. But she could not control the most important moment in her life; finding a mate. Finding someone who she would share the rest of her life with. Finding someone who would be inside her head and no everything about her and where she was and what she was doing-Yikes!

"But I suppose it's not as terrifying as facing scraplets," Bumblebee said suddenly, holding out a datapd. Arcee grinned, knowing he was trying to lighten up the mood. And with that, the conversation returned to scraplets.

By the time they had gathered as much datapads as they could find, Arcee would find herself wondering how they had gone from the subject of scraplets, to talking about the races.

"Will you be coming tonight at the Hut?" she asked, speaking about the races.

Bumblebee frowned. "The Hut?"

"The name of the hangout," she clarified. She hadn't really been going there long, but it helped her to relax and escape. It was also a place where she could practice her skills; such as racing, shooting and scouting. It was all in friendly games and casual competition. But, she was always accompanied by her protector, Ark.

Bumblebee frowned. "I am not sure. I would like to, but it depends on if I can finish up my work in time." He looked at her. "What exactly goes on there?"

Arcee was silent for a moment, not sure how to explain it. She shrugged. "It's just a hangout, really. There are tracks for racing, and sometimes everyone gets together to play 'Territory'."

Bumblebee cocked his helm. "'Territory'?" he repeated.

She nodded, optics alight with excitement. "Yes. You have two teams who have to guard a different 'territory' and a certain object. If the other team steals the object from another team, that team wins. Make sense?"

Bumblebee looked uncertain. "I...guess so?"

She shook her helm. "You will have to come down and see it for yourself, it's really fun."

Bumblebee grinned. "Maybe I will."

"Bumblebee!" a sudden voice exclaimed.

The yellow Cybertronian jumped to his pedes, gathering a few datapads in his servos. "Nearly finished, sir," he spoke quickly, his helm held high. "I was just assisting this femme with a current project she is working on."

The mech who had demanded Bumblebee's attention narrowed his optics. But then he glanced at Arcee, and his optics softened. "I am pretty sure this lovely young femme truly needed your help on the study of scraplets. They are a unique creation of Primus's and must be studied to better understand them. It is an easy subject to study on."

"To you, maybe," Bumblebee grumbled for Arcee to hear, who grinned.

"However," the mech continued, not hearing Bumblebee's grumbling. "One must be guided by a professional, such as myself."

"Oh, I'm sure," Bumblebee muttered. But the mech heard that last part and glared at Bumblebee, who straightened up with an apologetic look.

"Why don't you finish up on the task Prowl had given you," the mech said. "I will assist the femme."

"That's alright," Arcee said hastily, getting up. "I'm finished anyway." She looked up at Bumblebee with a grin. "See you tonight at the races." She shook her finger at him. "That's an order." And with that, she quickly left, carrying her notes and datapads.

* * *

"You want us to go back?" Smokescreen demanded, raising an optic ridge.

Bumblebee shrugged. "We just tell Optimus where we're going, and we'll be fine."

Smokescreen frowned. "You sure about that?"

Bumblebee's steps faltered. "Um...maybe?"

Smokescreen sighed, looking upwards as if asking for mercy. "Come on!" Bumblebee said with excitement. "Don't tell me you didn't have at least a little bit of fun!"

"Sure, because the last few minutes of hiding from our guardians was so much 'fun'," Smokescreen grumbled.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Bumblebee said quickly. "I can go by myself-"

"Oh no! I'm going with you," Smokescreen exclaimed. "Some has got to keep you out of trouble."

Bumblebee frowned. "Since when do I get into trouble?" he demanded.

"Ever since you meet Hot Rod," Smokescreen joked, nudging his friend playfully. "What brought on this topic of conversation anyway?"

Bumblebee hesitated. "I...saw Arcee again," he said.

Smokescreen frowned, trying to remember the femme. "Arcee?" he asked.

"The blue femme we met back at the Hut," Bumblebee said.

"The Hut?"

"The name of the place we went to," Bumblebee deadpanned.

"Oh," Smokescreen nodded. "So you saw Arcee?"

"Yeah," he said. "Anyway, she said we should come by sometime. Literally ordered me to come tonight."

Smokescreen shrugged. "I guess when a femme orders you to do something, you got to do it."

* * *

Optimus rested his helm in his servos, closing his optics for a brief moment. Yes, he was worn and tired. His meeting with Megatron had been delayed, which had been an embarrassment. Prowl had nearly glitched at how disorganized everything was, and Optimus had to agree with him on that. But, thankfully, Megatron seemed to have been in good spirits. He hid it well, but Optimus had known Megatron before the war. He could see the way his shoulders were relaxed, and how his optics shimmered, as if he knew something amusing. Over the years, Optimus had seen a change come over Megatron's personality. He was patient, and calm. They were small changes, but they were changes nevertheless. Countless pleading and battles had done nothing to sway Megatron's way of thinking. But all it took was one helpless sparkling to change all that. A sparkling, whom Optimus had watched grow into a suitable, mature femme.

He could feel Elita reach out to him over their bond, worry and comfort all in that tangle of emotions. Optimus welcomed her presence, and he loved how the warm presence in his mind helped ease the worries.

A soft knock on the door pulled him away from his thoughts. He looked up with a smile, sensing the familiar spark signature. "You do not need to knock," he reminded.

A yellow helm poked through the door, wearing a sheepish grin. "Sorry. But it's polite."

Optimus chuckled. "What can I do for you, Bumblebee?" he asked, getting up from his seat.

Bumblebee shrugged, looking at Optimus. "It can wait. Are you alright?"

He could feel the wave of concern and worry the yellow Cybertronian had, and it touched him deeply. At that moment, his day became a little more bearable. "Yes, I am," he said. "Thank you for asking."

Bumblebee nodded, settling down into one of the chairs. "So how did the meeting go?" he asked innocently. Bumblebee had recently became interested in politics and anything that had to do with the Decepticons. And Optimus understood the curiosity. Mostly what went on in politics had to deal with those that were Selected. Many dropped out, for fear and anger at what was being done. But others like Smokescreen stayed out of loyalty, wanting to support the Autobot Heir, whoever he may be.

"As well as can be expected," he replied, looking through the files on his desk. "Arrangements have been made for Megatron and the Decepticons stay."

Bumblebee frowned. "I figured as much."

"Oh," Optimus said, tilting his helm. "And why is that?"

Bumblebee shrugged. "I met a Selected Decepticon. I thought it a bit odd that she would be so far away from Kaon. But then I remembered this meeting you were having." He looked up at Optimus. "But why do they need to stay here?"

"With those Selected to stay here, the hope is that you will all meet on friendlier terms," Optimus said.

Bumblebee's mouth twitched, a sign that he was trying not to smile. "And to hopefully spark romantic interests between the Selected Bots and Cons, huh?"

Optimus also grinned. "That was the intended idea, yes."

"Who suggested it?" he asked.

"Starscream."

"Right."

Optimus tilted his helm, gazing at Bumblebee as they fell into comfortable silence. After a certain amount of years, the whole idea of the Selection hadn't become real to Bumblebee. It was still there, and he took it seriously. But it was, in a way, normal for him. Bumblebee was never uncomfortable when he talked about his betrothal in front of Optimus and the others. Though Optimus could sense the uncertainty in him, and the tampered down fear from time to time. It was also added by the fact that he didn't even know who he was bonding with. For safety measures, it was decided that no one was to know who the Heirs were. Not even the Heirs themselves.

"Will, huh...she be here?" Bumblebee asked slowly.

Optimus nodded, subtly watching Bumblebee's expression. "Yes, she will be." He was well aware of who _she_ was.

Bumblebee nodded, his helm bobbing up and down. "Good, good. Of course she would be." Silence stretched on, and Optimus patiently waited for Bumblebee to continue.

"Will I know her when I see her?" he asked.

Optimus smiled kindly. "I am afraid not," he answered.

"That's fine," Bumblebee said quickly, getting up. "I mean...it's alright. Safety and everything."

Optimus frowned, concerned. "Bumblebee…"

"Optimus," he interrupted. "I understand. It's not only for my safety, but for the safety of everyone else who is a Selected." There was genuine understanding and acceptance in those optics, a look that was far too old for someone so young.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Bumblebee said suddenly. "Smokescreen and I were wondering if we could go down to the Hut. It's this place where-"

"I am well aware of the hangout," Optimus said. He was also well aware that Bumblebee was trying to change the topic of conversation. And he allowed it to slide...for now. "Prowl informed me of everything that occured last night."

Bumblebee winced, his doorwings lowering.

"Please, don't ever feel like you have to sneak out again," Optimus said. "It's less paperwork for me to fill out."

Bumblebee grinned. "Thank you, Optimus. And yes, I will."

Optimus knew Prowl would disagree with him allowing the two out and about. But Optimus trusted Bumblebee. He also understood that the Hut was a safe and friendly place. When he had first heard of it, Optimus had used all his resources to look the place up. He hadn't stopped until he was satisfied with his findings. The archivist in him had insisted on the research.

Frowning, he reached for his comm link once Bumblebee was gone. "Jazz? I would request your presence in my office." Jazz would be more for protection than anything else. And if Bumblebee saw Jazz at the Hut, well, the silver Autobot was known to enjoy fun every so often. But once Jazz deemed it safe, then yes, Optimus will pull him back and allow Bumblebee to have his time alone.


	4. Chapter 3

This was a bad idea. This was a really really bad idea. But thinking about it and agreeing that it was a bad idea wouldn't fix the problem.

Someone betrayed them. And because of that, many lives were lost.

Bumblebee stayed in the darkness of the abandoned building, silent as ever with his senses on high alert. He heard nothing in the sudden stillness of the night, but that meant nothing. The enemy was just as crafty, they had proven that much. He slowly emerged, his weapon out and ready.

 _"Smokescreen,"_ he said through the private comm link. _"Smokescreen?"_

Nothing.

Dread filled Bumblebee's spark as he realized what his friend's sudden silence meant. But he pushed it away, determined to go on. He had too. They must complete their mission. He could see his target was in sight. A simple relic, but a relic with meaning. Stealing it would mean victory despite the sacrifices it took to get here.

He made his way forward, stopping when he gazed at the opening in front of him. The rooftop was missing, allowing the light of Cybertron's moons to shine down on the pedestal that was in the middle of the room. He would be vulnerable out in the open. And he still had to make it back to base. He listened intently, just as Prowl had taught him. Trust your instincts, never make a move when in doubt.

 _"I'll cover for you,"_ a sudden voice said over the private comm link.

Bumblebee nearly leaped out of his metal armor at the sudden and unexpected voice. But he forced himself to remain still as his optics scanned the area around him. _"Where are you?"_ he asked, recognizing the voice as Sideswipe. Though not one he would prefer to be stuck with, he was better than nothing.

 _"Duh, right behind you."_

Bumblebee slowly turned his helm, but saw no one inside with him. _"What?"_

 _"I'm a few clicks back. I can see you, so you might want to change your position. But here's the deal. You make a break for the relic while I set up a distraction."_

Bumblebee shook his helm, even though Sideswipe would not be able to see it. _"That only means one of us leaves here alive,"_ he argued.

 _"This is war,"_ came the grim response. _"And we fight for our fallen brothers."_

Bumblebee thought of Smokescreen, and possibly Sunstreaker, and was suddenly filled with determination. _"On your mark,"_ he agreed.

 _"Wait for the signal."_

Not a moment later, and Sideswipe emerged from cover, blasters blazing. A shout went out that shattered the silent night. Bumblebee could hear the rush of hidden femmes and mechs as they went after Sideswipe. Bumblebee took that as his cue and sprinted on ahead, moving with such speed that would have made Prowl proud of him. The relic was in sight. His servo closed around the small, round object, his optics taking in it's simplicity.

Movement to his right caught his attention, and he ducked, avoiding the blaster shot that hit the empty pedestal. He glared up at the small femme, his optics widening.

"Moonracer?" he gasped in shock. "You're the traitor?"

She shrugged. "Not much to say on that," she said simply, aiming her weapon at him.

Bumblebee didn't give her time to react as he threw the relic high up and into the air, Moonracer following its movements. But that left her distracted, allowing Bumblebee to attack. Moonracer brought up her servos in self defense, only to have her pedes kicked out from under her. The relic bounced to the ground, and Bumblebee could have sworn that the loud 'ping' was the only sound everyone heard.

Bumblebee scooped up the relic, making a run for it. Like a pack of rabid scraplets, guards rushed at him. A small part of him noted that it was by sheer luck that he had avoided Moonracer's shoots. She was after all, very talented in that department.

"I got your back!" Sideswipe shouted, popping out of nowhere. "Get back to base!"

Bumblebee was torn, but he knew the object in his servos was valuable, and they could not afford to lose it. He heard a blaster shot ring out, and he turned to see Smokescreen run by, weapons out.

"Where did you get two weapons?" Bumblebee demanded, relieved to see his friend.

He shrugged. "From the bodies." Bumblebee didn't question any further.

"Here, take the relic," he said, shoving it in Smokescreen's servos.

Smokescreen gaped. "Where are you going?"

"Sideswipe is still out there," he replied. "And Moonracer is the traitor. Besides," he gestured to his leg, which had been shot. "It'll only take one more lucky shot before I'm done for. You'll make it back to base faster without me."

Smokescreen shook his helm, his mouth twitching. "No, I will not abandon you!"

"You must, for the sake of all that we fought for," Bumblebee said firmly, shoving his friend forward before running back the way he had come. He didn't look back to make sure his friend was not following. Smokescreen knew what to do. Or, he should.

He charged forward, shooting at anything that moved. He didn't check to see if his shots hit their targets, he just kept shooting. At one point, everything becomes a target as your surroundings become a blur.

A sudden, loud horn rang out, causing everyone to freeze. "Attention players!" a sudden voice rang out. "Red team is the winner!"

Cheers rang out, Bumblebee's one of them. "We did it!" Sideswipe shouted. "Ha! In your face Mirage!"

"I think you cheated!" the mech shouted back.

"Oh yeah? Wanna beat?"

And the bickering continued, and Bumblebee tuned them out. "Nice job," he commented to Moonracer who strode forward.

She grinned. "Not bad yourself. Though I was dropping massive hints that I was the traitor. The only one who picked it up was Hot Rod!"

"Which was why he was taken out so suddenly," Bumblebee groaned, wanting to smack himself. "How did we miss that?"

She shrugged, her grin growing. "You're learning."

"Did you enjoy your first time playing Territory?" a sudden, familiar voice asked.

Bumblebee turned to see Arcee coming forward, the harmless guns slung over her shoulder. "Yeah," he agreed excitedly. "But it was intense, there were moments when I truly feared for my life!" He noted, that unlike him, Arcee had no blue paint from any of the paint bullets. One lucky sniper managed to hit Bumblebee in the leg. One more shot, and he would have been out of the game.

Arcee laughed. "You did good for your first time, though. Have you been practicing?"

"Prowl insists that we learn the art of stealth," he answered. "Tonight was a great opportunity for me to test out all that I've learned."

"When you gave out the rules that said 'Don't laugh,' I thought you were joking!" Smokescreen complained, coming up.

Arcee shrugged, still grinning. "You'd be surprised, laughter can be very dangerous."

"I thought I was going to bust out laughing on the whole, 'I will not leave you'!" Smokescreen continued, throwing his servos up.

Bumblebee chuckled. "I know! Were you trying to make me laugh and blow the whole mission? I bet you've been watching those drama vid's with Prowl again."

"No!" Smokescreen stuttered.

Arcee laughed. "You should have been here last time. We had Hot Rod go out, professing his love for Ark. She shot him, which gave away the relics location."

"Love can be deadly," Smokescreen nodded with a grin.

Bumblebee forced himself to think about the game they had just won, and not about the Selection. Now was not the time. He was enjoying himself, and he would not think about any arrangements or future mate's in a loveless bond.

"But it's the deadliness that makes it so alluring," Hot Rod piped up, joining in. "And a femme already shot me when I confessed my love. I think the worse is behind me."

For some reason, the image of Bumblebee's future mate shooting him was not as terrifying as one would think-No! Not thinking about it. Think about fun! Think about the game!

"What's with the rules?" he blurted out suddenly, earning him a confused look from Smokescreen.

Arcee looked up, thinking. "You mean; Don't laugh, Death shot's and you're out, Two shot's you're out. No foul play?"

"The don't laugh part," he said quickly.

She smirked. The look seemed right on her, for some reason. It added a look of alluring mystery to her, along with the twinkle in her optics that added to the secrecy that only she knew. "You'd be surprised what one can do when trying to act serious. Plus, it's more of a stupid rule than anything else. But it's there."

He nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. "Gotcha."

The walk back to the Hut was filled with laughter and some arguing over who won fairly and who cheated. Bumblebee let it all fade into background noise, content with living on the Red team's brief victory. So caught up in his musings, he missed what Arcee was saying.

"I'm sorry," he said, embarrassed. "Could you repeat that?"

Arcee huffed. "Do you spar? I noticed your fighting style in how you engaged the enemy."

"Um, a little. I mean, I know how to handle myself with a sword. But I prefer blasters."

Arcee grinned. "Think you're a good shot?"

Bumblebee found himself raising an optic ridge at the silent challenge. "I hit what I'm aiming for," he replied. He could hear Smokescreen groan.

"If you two are going to the target range, we might as well have stayed home with our guardians," the white mech mumbled,

Bumblebee frowned. "Shooting is fun."

Smokescreen rolled his optics. "Whatever. I'm going to do some actual fun." And with that, he strolled off towards the Hut.

* * *

"Just what is this supposed to accomplish?" Chromia asked, folding her arms. Her stance was not quite challenging, but it was firm.

Optimus sighed, silently glaring at the blue femme who just shrugged. "I mean," she continued. "What if Bumblebee meets a different Decepticon, and falls in love with her instead? Wouldn't that mess everything up? Was Starscream not aware of that?"

"Starscream's intentions are not entirely clear, as of yet," Optimus replied. "But Bumblebee is already aware of the risks. He is a smart mech, and I do not think we have to worry about him developing feelings for the wrong femme."

Chromia frowned, worry in her optics. "But Optimus, while he might know that, the spark does many strange things."

"I am aware of that," Optimus said. "And we will keep an eye on him. But this is also a perfect opportunity for him to develop possible ties with the Decepticons. This was not set up in the hopes that Bumblebee would meet his mate by chance. Even I hold no such hopes. But he can develop other lasting relationships with the Selected Decepticons."

Chromia's optics narrowed. "So this is nothing more than a political opportunity?"

This is what the relationship between him and Chromia had come to. They both cared for each other, that had never changed. But Bumblebee always came first, and Chromia fought for him and for his rights. Even after years of arguing, she still resented the arrangement between the Autobots and Decepticons. But she understood that peace was important. And over time, she forgave Optimus, and for that, he was grateful. He valued the friendship they had, and there were times when he wondered if it had ever been lost in the first place. But that did not mean she still had her moments, like right now.

"No," he said. "This is more than an opportunity. The Autobots and Decepticons will come to an end. And we need to make that quite clear to Cybertron. We cannot rebuild our home with two warring factions."

Her frown deepened. "Isn't there a better way for Bumblebee to get to know the Decepticon Heir without...knowing who she is?"

Optimus also frowned. "That would be impossible."

"What about those datapads you and Megatron put together a while ago?" she asked suddenly. "It seemed to have worked. Bumblebee was so excited."

The datapad project had been a way for the two Heirs to communicate by sending messages to each other. For a short time, it seemed to work. But they had to put a stop to the messages as it became too dangerous. Someone had come to close to hacking into the messages, and Megatron had decided that it would be best for them to stop before anything else happened. And Optimus had reluctantly agreed, and that had been the last of the messages.

He would have said so to Chromia, except Jazz decided to pop in at that moment.

"How is he?" Optimus asked, looking at Jazz expectantly.

Jzz beamed. "Kid's doing great! I'll say he's having the time of his life! If Prowl had been there, he would have been beaming with pride over Smokes and Bees skills."

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Oh?"

"Yeah! See, there's this game the younglings play. Called Territory. Anyway, you have two teams trying to steal the other teams relic. Each bot get's a gun loaded with paint. Two shots or a death shot, and you're outta the game. But there's always one traitor on the two teams, and ya gotta watch out and make sure you don't get stabbed in the back." Jazz's smile widened. "I'm telling you, Bee and Smokescreen were acting like pros." He paused. "Except for being melodramatic at some points. But it was great!" He looked at Optimus. "I can keep an eye on him a couple more nights if you'd like. But I think he's fine."

Optimus nodded. "Wait a few days, and then we will see."

Jazz shrugged. "That's cool. I need to scope out the place anyways, just to be sure." He sighed. "Makes me want to be a kid again."

Chromia hummed. "And I'm sure you participated in a few of those games yourself, huh?" she teased.

Jazz scowled. "I gotta keep my aim sharp."

"And how does racing keep one's aim sharp?" she asked, raising an optic ridge.

"Keeps me fit so I don't lose my flow," he defended.

"Uh huh. I'll be sure to tell Prowl and Ironhide that you're worried about losing flow," she said with a mischievous smirk. "I bet they'll love hearing this."

Jazz sputtered. "It's not exactly illegal to go hang out at a hangout!"

"But what would Prowl think about the bets you've placed? And with his own account?" Chromia said with a devilish smirk. "Granted, he gets all the credits that comes in, so you weren't stealing from him. But I wonder just what he'd have to say to that."

Jazz sputtered. "You wouldn't dare!" But Chromia wasn't listening as she strode out the door. Jazz spun to look at Optimus, optics wide. "Stop her Prime!"

But Optimus frowned. "You used Prowl's accounts?" And with that, Jazz was running after Chromia. Optimus sighed, rubbing his helm. Well, that at least explained the sudden new paint job that Prowl came in with. Though he was curious as to who else's account Jazz had gotten into.

* * *

"So what's the point of having a traitor in the game?" Bumblebee asked as Arcee took another shot at the target, hitting it dead center. The outside was cool and clear with the wide field around them. The Hut was not far, as they could still hear the noise. It was peaceful outside, save for the occasional shooting.

She lowered her weapon. "The traitor can take out as many players as they want, but they cannot steal the relic. But capturing a traitor is an advantage to the other team, as you get extra points. So if, lets say, Red Team captured a traitor, but no one had managed to capture the relic when the time has run out, Red Team than stands a good chance at winning."

Bumblebee nodded. "Gotcha. And the no laughing rule?"

She shot him a look. "You're still stuck on that?"

"Who isn't!"

She chuckled, turning her attention back to the target. Bumblebee had to admit, she was a good shot. He had already taken his turn, and was know content to just sit and watch. It was easy to talk with Arcee, despite having just met her. Not that he had ever had any difficulty talking to Cybertronians. Quite the opposite, in fact. But Arcee made him feel comfortable. She was...interesting.

Three quick shots rang out with swift accuracy. Bumblebee whistled. "Nice shot." He smirked. "Though your last one missed the center."

She huffed. "The dust was in my optics."

He narrowed his optics. "What dust?"

She kicked her pede. "That dust."

"Oh! Are we shooting?" a sudden voice exclaimed.

Bumblebee beamed, turning to see Moonracer coming forward. "Hey Moony. Just finishing up. Care to show us how it's done?"

The green femme grinned. "Don't mind if I do." She looked at Arcee, smiling brightly. "Arcee, right? I'm Moonracer."

Arcee inclined her helm politely. "Pleasure to meet you, Moonracer." She frowned, optics twinkling with interest. "You shoot?"

Moonracer shrugged as she scanned the weapons on the rack. "I dabble."

Bumblebee rolled his optics. "Quit being so modest. You're an excellent shot."

Moonracer hummed. "I suppose so."

Bumblebee turned to Arcee. "Just watch," he mouthed.

Moonracer finally made her pick, choosing a sniper rifle. She strode toward a different target, setting up her weapon with quick and practiced ease. Than, she narrowed her optics, before taking four, rapid shots that shattered the silent night.

After a moment, Arcee got up to check the target. "Whoa!" her startled shout exclaimed, causing Bumblebee to chuckle. Arcee came back, her optics wide. "You dabble?" she demanded. "No, no, no. That is talent. You didn't even miss one! And all four shots were front and center!"

Moonracer grinned. "Not bad yourself," she said, nodding to Arcee's target. "It almost becomes memory to me, like the weapon feels right in my servos." She glared at Bumblebee. "Though I can't believe I missed you in the game! I came back here to prove to myself that I've still got it."

"You lost them," a sudden voice said beside Bumblebee. He turned to see a familiar Cybertronian stride toward him, wearing a grin. Bumblebee smiled. "I figured as much," he said to Powerglide.

"You're part of the Selection?" he heard Moonracer ask. And just like that, the subject Bumblebee had been trying to avoid came back in full swing. He resisted the groan that was building up, letting out a sigh instead.

"Yeah," Arcee said. "And I assume you are as well?"

Moonracer nodded as she adjusted her sniper rifle. "Tonight might be the last one we get of peace and quiet for a while. Everyone's going to be watching us like scraplets." She sighed. "I'm treasuring it while I can."

Bumblebee hadn't thought of that. But now that he did, he should have probably asked Optimus what he should be expecting with their Decepticon visitors. Was there a certain way he was supposed to act? Were there places he had to be or events he had to attend? He doubted it, as Optimus would have told way before their guests had arrived. But everything was usually done at the last minute, to avoid propaganda and the threat of any terrorist attack.

"Bee? You in there?" Moonracer asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He grinned, hoping to appear casual. "Never left," he said.

Moonracer raised an optic ridge while glancing at Arcee. "And he calls me 'Moony.' Well, I'll be seeing you guys around." She looked back at Arcee with a grin. "I hope to catch up with you some other time."

Arcee nodded as she placed her weapon back on the rack. "I look forward to it."

Moonracer beamed, looking back up at Powerglide. "Shall we?" she asked, offering her arm.

He bowed. "It would be my pleasure," he said with a grin.

Bumblebee watched the two go, his helm tilted. He knew Moonracer and Powerglide were friendly, and it had never bothered her what others might think about her friendships. Sometimes he wondered if he could have that sort of freedom. Not that it would matter. No one payed much attention to Bumblebee now, as he was just a member of the Selection. But when the announcements were made and he bonded with the Decepticon Heir, then everyone would be watching him. His past actions would be brought up, that much he knew. Moonracer was right, he should cherish moments like this.

"Might as well go inside," Arcee said, walking forward after she had checked and put her rifle back.

Bumblebee nodded. "Yeah."

She looked at him, tilting her helm. "You alright?"

"I'm overwhelmed," he found himself saying before he could stop himself. Primus, why did he do that? He didn't even know this femme well enough, so why did he just blurt this out? "Tonight was fun," he said quickly. "I never played Territory before."

"It's a common game back in Kaon," Arcee said simply. "I get to practice a lot with my instructors. They can be brutal, and some of them are perfectionists and I used to curse them for putting me through such misery. But it all payed off in the end."

He chuckled for a reason unknown to him. "I never understood why Ironhide put me through such training," he commented. For self-defense, he could understand. But some of the techniques he was taught were a bit extreme, as he had come to realize over the years.

Arcee frowned. "The weapons specialist?" she asked.

Bumblebee nodded. "Yeah."

"Prime's weapons specialist personally trained you?"

Bumblebee's steps faltered, and he fought to school his features so as not to show panic. "Yes, he did." Scrap. But no big deal, right? Ironhide trained many Cybertronians before. Just because Bumblebee was personally trained by him should not mean anything to Arcee at all. After all, it wasn't like Optimus Prime himself had chosen Ironhide to train Bumblebee because he was anyone special. At least, he hoped that's what Arcee would think.

Scrap.

But Arcee just nodded. "That's very interesting. His technique is very unique in some ways." But Bumblebee could read the look on her face. It was a look he had seen Elita and Chromia give their mates when they knew the mechs were hiding something. It was also a hidden warning that they would find out what was going on. But, Arcee was no Elita and Chromia. So maybe…

Maybe he was reading too much into it, he thought. Maybe he was too wound up and nervous. Primus! He really needed to get out more if the stress of life was getting to him this much.

"The scraplet project, how is that one going?" he asked suddenly. It was then he made a mental note to work on acting subtle.

Arcee groaned. "No, we are not talking about that. I gathered what I could and have everything ready. But I despise not being prepared, and I cannot help but feel like I am missing something."

Bumblebee shrugged. "It was just a dare. They could have had you doing something much worse."

She nodded. "I suppose so. Though, a project on the predacons would have been interesting."

Bumblebee blinked. "Really? Why?"

"I have seen some of the Decepticon scientists working on predacon bones," she explained. "And I grew up learning about them, so I find it rather fascinating. Though, not much is known about the predacons."

"Well, they're not going to dare you to do something easy," Bumblebee commented.

"True," she replied. "It can never be easy, can it?"

Bumblebee thought about the work his guardians did, and how stressed and worn out they were. He thought about the many stories he heard of the battles they fought, and what they had accomplished. No, it was never easy. But the end was worth it. It had to be. "No, I suppose not," he said.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, quick question. Who is Moonracer actually shipped with? I am unsure who she, in canon, get's together with. Does she wind up with Powerglide, or Mirage? And the same goes for Smokescreen; who does he wind up with? Your replies would be very helpful, and I would appreciate it.**


	5. Chapter 4

Megatron entered the dimly lit room, his optics casually scanning his surroundings. The mech before him did not even look up, but a slight twitch in his servos showed that the former warlord's presence had not gone unnoticed. For a moment, the only sound was Megatron's pede steps as he approached the desk.

"Ah, an office," he said. "How I despise such places."

"From what I have heard, your office is quite ornate," Optimus said, a trace of amusement in his voice as he shut the datapad he had been looking at.

He shrugged. "Someone insisted that such an office would show that I am...sophisticated."

A small smile tugged at Optimus's mouth. "I wonder who that could have been."

Megatron straightened up, the friendly banter coming to an end. "And what is this report that you needed to share before I made my presence known to the Selected?"

Optimus nodded. "We have received word of a small group of rebels moving north of Iacon. I have sent my troops out to intercept, but we will not hear from them in at least a couple of days."

Megatron slowly nodded, assessing the words for a hidden meaning. News of rebel attacks was not new to him. There were some Cybertronians who did not want peace. Either because they refused to accept the thought of Autobots and Decepticons living together with no clear winner, or they were aware that the two Heirs would topple the once mighty power of the Council that was rising from the ashes.

While it was difficult for Autobots and Decepticons to live together peacefully, there was hope that it would all change. But so far, Autobots seemed content with living in Iacon while Decepticons were staying in Kaon.

"And why would such news trouble you so?" Megaron asked.

"Because of who was spotted with that particular rebel group," Optimus said, opening the data pad he had been previously looking at.

Megatron leaned in with a frown, scanning the report. He looked back up at Optimus, pushing the report back. It read one name that stood out to both mechs: _Dirge_.

"You have confirmation?" Megatron asked.

Optimus nodded. "He was sighted twice by our scouts. That alone gives me enough pause in our plans." He looked back up at Megatron. "Is there anything else you can share about him?"

Megatron snorted. "Dirge is a silent being. Fear is his weapon. Although, Starscream has described him more than once as a control freak. I am inclined to agree with him, as Dirge has had his moments when things spiraled out of control and he became a useless, blubbering mess. However," here, he glanced at Optimus. "He is not to be underestimated."

Optimus nodded. "They never are."

Megatron leaned forward. "What are you going to do?" The unspoken question was, what could they do? He could always have Soundwave send out the minicons for a simple assassination. Though, knowing that Dirge was out there was a bit of an advantage. Plus, they would need to find out if anyone else was involved.

"I plan to send out our scouts to keep an eye on him. He may be planning something more than what we already know."

Megatron nodded. "Someone is distributing him with weapons and tech."

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "You believe that someone in the higher-up is a traitor." It was not a question. Both leaders were aware of the possibility.

"Is it such a surprise?" Megatron asked.

"Not at all," Optimus said, rising up from his seat. "It is concerning, but not surprising. But the timing of it all is rather unsettling."

That was a good point, and one Megatron had been thinking of. It was only a matter of time before they had to introduce the Heirs to each other. Though he hid it well, Megatron was rather unsettled about the whole ordeal, and it was not about the possible threat.

It was about Arcee. He had known it would be somewhat difficult for him to go through with this arrangement. But it had to be done to achieve peace and a better future for her.

It was just unfortunate that it had to come at a price.

"I will have Soundwave increase his efforts in uncovering this possible traitor," he said. If anyone could find the mole, it was Soundwave.

"What about a report on your...assets?" Optimus asked, shooting him a look.

Megatron bristled. It had been one of many debates on whether or not they should reveal their spies to each other. It was no secret that during the war that Autobots and Decepticons had sent out spies. But since this treaty, it had been decided to keep the identities of these spies a secret in order to keep them safe and allow them to return to a normal life.

But, it was not secret to Megatron that Optimus kept tabs on his own former spies, just as Megatron did. War and experience had taught them that trust should not be handed out so easily.

"I will think about it," Megatron said stiffly. Which meant, as Optimus had come to learn, as 'no.' "But I will inform you if Soundwave finds anything of use on this traitor."

The door to the office suddenly opened to reveal a tall mech who walked right in. "Greetings Megatron," Sentinal said with a polite nod, his armor shined for the evening. "Optimus," he said, tilting his crowned helm.

"Sentinal," the Prime said politely. "Megatron and I were finishing up some diplomatic options." Megatron noticed how he casually turned off the datapad before sliding it off the desk.

"I am aware of that, as your lovely spark mate reminded me when I made my way up here. But you both need to remember not to overwork yourselves. The Selected are already gathering down there, and your absence has been noted."

Megatron glanced at Optimus. "Some other time then, Prime," he said before striding out of the room. He was well aware that their conversation would have to be resumed. This new information bothered him. While he was aware that some former Decepticons or Autobots would rise up to stir up trouble, he had never thought it would be the likes of Dirge. He had thought that the Decepticon would have died, as he seemed to attract death more so than most.

"Soundwave," he ordered gruffly, the masked mech stepping forward and matching his strides. "Dirge. Find the mech, and watch him. Pull up all reports of his past activities. And I mean everything."

Soundwave nodded, heading off to do as he was ordered. The mech was never comfortable with social events anyway, so missing this event was not a loss to him. Megatron knew that, and it amused him for some reason. Maybe it was because the masked mech was never good at socializing. He was a Decepticon. He was used used for other things. Things that this younger generation did not need to find out.

The sounds of music and laughter pulled Megatron away from his grim thoughts, and he immediately scanned the room for Arcee. He saw her on the other side of the room, chuckling at something she found amusing. Ark was standing by, blending into the shadows yet keeping a sharp watch over her charge. He chuckled, remembering Arcee's outrage at the thought of having a bodyguard. But Megatron had been firm. Kaon was not the safest place to be, yet he refused to send Arcee away. He needed her nearby, and he was glad she was.

Arcee happened to look up, catching his gaze, She grinned at him, raising her glass in acknowledgement. He smiled back, making his way towards her.

* * *

"Bumblebee?" the soft voice asked.

Bumblebee looked up sharply, shoving the precious datapad he had been reading in a nearby compartment. "Yeah, Elita?" he asked.

"Are you alright?" she asked, knocking on his door.

"Uh, yeah," he said, looking around as he made sure he looked presentable.

"Alright," she said, a trace of worry in her voice. "Can I come in then?"

"Um, sure?" he said, wincing at how uncertain he sounded.

His berth room door opened in an instant, and Elita strode in, her bright blue optics alight with concern. Bumblebee couldn't help but smile, her presence always bringing comfort. A faint memory came back to him, one when he was but a child.

 _"I found my spark mate," he announced, stumbling over to Optimus who caught him._

 _Optimus chuckled. "Oh really? And who might that be?"_

 _"Elita," he said simply, his small form sitting on Optimus's lap._

 _"And why is Elita going to be your spark-mate?" he asked, his optics twinkling with amusement._

 _"Because she loves me and is very nice," he chirped. "But don't worry. We can share her."_

 _Optimus smiled. "But I don't think I want to share my spark-mate with anyone."_

 _"But sharing is nice," Bumblebee pointed out._

 _"Yes, it is," Optimus agreed. "But a spark-mate is only meant for the one being they are to share their life with. Besides, Elita cannot be your mother and your spark-mate at the same time"_

 _Bumblebee looked up with a frown. "Okay," he said. "Then you will have to help me find my spark-mate."_

"You seem to be in a good mood," Elita commented, pulling him out of his thoughts and memories.

He smiled. "Yeah."

She cocked her helm, optics bright with understanding. "Are you nervous?"

He fiddled with his fingers, looking down. "A little," he confessed.

She took his arm, her reassurance flooding through him. "Don't be," she said. "We will be down there with you. Besides, it is a simple get together. A bunch of posh nonsense to make the Decepticons feel welcomed."

Bumblebee grinned. Very rarely would Elita speak of the Decepticons in such a way. But her statement showed just what she thought of the life in politics.

"I honestly never thought I would be attending such fancey events when I was a librarian," she said. "And I can guarantee neither did Optimus and Ironhide."

If they had time, Bumblebee would have asked her to tell him about her previous life. Her life before the war, when she had been living a simple life. But, there were Cybertronians waiting for them. And while the absence of Bumblebee the Selected would go unnoticed, Elita-One's would most certainly raise some questions.

Elita brushed off a small speck of dirt that probably wasn't even there. She gazed at him, nodding in approval at the shine in his yellow armor. "You look very handsome," she said, a note of pride in her voice.

Bumblebee straightened up. "Thanks," he said, beaming. "And Ironhide? Is he spick and span as well?"

She laughed. "Screeching like a terricon the whole time. He proclaimed that his protective covering of dirt was being removed."

Bumblebee chuckled, the very image amusing. "I wish I could have seen that."

"They nearly had to send for Optimus," she chortled. "Us femmes could hear Prowl screech when he was thrown out." She looked up with a look of triumph. "There's that twinkle in your optics we were missing." She hooked her arm with his. "You ready?" He knew that if he said 'no', that she would stay with him and find some way to explain his absence.

But he was not a sparkling anymore. He was the Heir. He had no idea why he was so nervous, but there was a pit of anxiety forming. Maybe it was because he knew that in less then a meta-cycle, he would unite the two factions. And that meant he was going to meet his future spark mate even sooner. It was all moving so fast. Too fast. The years of his sparklinghood seemed like nothing more than a distant memory.

He smiled, his doorwings perking up. "Ready," he announced.

Elita frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," he answered, leading her out of the room. "I'm hungry anyways. And the energon sweets I saw looked really good."

He could tell Elita was unconvinced, but she did not push for more answers. "Make sure you complement Ironhide on how clean he looks," she whispered as he began to enter the room. She could not go out with him at the same time, as it would look odd that Elita-One was escorting a Selected. But she would emerge in a few minutes, timing his arrival so that it would not look staged.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Elita emerged from another entrance, her helm held high and her pink paint job shining in the light. She caught his stare and winked at him. It happened so fast that one would have missed it had they not been watching. But he saw it, and he winked back before mingling in the crowd.

"You look great Ironhide," he complemented, trying to keep his expression neutral.

Ironhide huffed. "Yeah, well tell Elita that I blame her for this," he gestured to his now shiny paint job. "This is just too fancy for me. I feel exposed!"

"At least you'll blind the enemy with your new look," Bumblebee commented as he picked out a sweetened energon candy.

Ironhide grumbled at that as he reached for a sweetened energon candy as well. But at that moment, a blue servo swatted his servo away. "Don't touch," Chromia scolded.

Ironhide sputtered at his mate. "Wha-? What do you mean?" He gestured at Bumblebee who was helping himself to another. "How come he's allowed to have sweets?"

"Because you are a member of Optimus Prime's most trusted advisors while Bumblebee is not," Chromia said as she daintily took a sip of her drink. "Which means you must keep your image as one. Which also means no picky fuel, and don't eat with your fingers."

Ironhide gaped at her while Bumblebee nearly choked on the candy as he snorted in amusement. Ironhide narrowed his optics. "All right," he grumbled, walking off. "I'll snack on those 'refreshments' that are meant to starve us all with their small sizes."

"Don't forget which utensil to use," she called back with a grin. Ironhide's grumble was her only answer. She chuckled before snagging a few pieces of the energon candy, winking at Bumblebee as she did so. Bumblebee just held his servos up, looking away with a smile.

His optics scanned the area around him, recognizing some Cybertronians. He could see Red Alert conversing with Ratchet nearby. Jetfire's booming laugh could be heard from across the room, and he could see Jazz slipping something in the drinks. He made a mental note to avoid that particular refreshment table.

He also saw members of the Selection. Moonracer was chatting with Firestar, along with Smokescreen who was chuckling at whatever the femmes had just said. Bumblebee was just about to make his way over when someone stopped him.

"Bumblebee," Megatron said simply, stepping in front of him. "It has been a while."

Bumblebee nodded politely. "So it has been." Over the many years, he had observed how Optimus, Elita and Ratchet spoke when it came to politics. Their speech patterns would change as would their mannerisms. And during those years, he had practiced changing his speech as well. Not to mention, Elita had tutors come in just so he could get a feel on how he should speak. "How are matters in Kaon?"

He thought he could detect a glimmer of amusement in Megatron's optics. "Matters are well, as they always have been."

Bumblebee knew for a fact that that was not as true as some would say. But he was not about to point that out. He had met Megatron on numerous occasions. And while the former warlord never gave him a reason for Bumblebee to be afraid of him, he was wary of him. He wondered if it would always be like that.

"The surveillance in the former gladiatorial pits have been increased," Megatron continued.

Bumblebee nodded. "That is good news, I suppose."

"It is indeed," Megatron said.

Bumblebee had the distinct feeling that this was no more than a way for Megatron to observe him. The thought did not sit well with Bumblebee, who resisted the urge to fidget. But the benefits of being marked as a Selected meant that they had to keep their 'conversation' short, or risk answering some very difficult questions to some observant onlookers.

A Cybertronian snagged Megatron's attention, giving Bumblebee the perfect excuse to escape. Politely excusing himself, he slowly made his way across the room, despite the urge to scurry away from Megatron's sudden, watchful optic.

"I hope he didn't intimidate you," a sudden voice asked.

Bumblebee grinned, turning to look at Arcee who was smirking in amusement. "Megatron?" he asked. "Of course not. The conversation was going nowhere, in fact. And it was painfully obvious."

Arcee nodded, glancing over at Megatron who was conversing with another Cybertronian. "Kind of like how this conversation is going, huh?" Her optics twinkled to show she was teasing though.

Bumblebee sighed. "Kind of. Though I am desperate to save it." His optics widened in realization. "How did that dare of yours go?"

Arcee grimaced. "Terrible. Part of the bet included me finding a group of sparklings and presenting them with the study. I just ambushed them near their play area and started talking like a profesor. Their creators were starting to question my mental health."

The mental image of Arcee, or any Cybertronian, ambushing sparklings for a dare was amusing to say the least. He found himself chuckling.

Arcee frowned. "Laugh at the sheer embarrassment I had to go through. I am pretty sure it is hilarious."

"Sorry," he snorted.

* * *

Elita happened to look up and notice Bumblebee chatting with a blue femme. Recognizing who she was brought a smile to Elita's face.

Strong, familiar arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. She closed her optics, leaning against the strong mech who was embracing her.

"What are you looking at?" Optimus asked.

The smile grew. "A young Cybertronian."

Optimus chuckled. "Should I be worried?"

"Maybe," she admitted. "He did ask me to be his spark-mate a lot sooner than you did."

"Well, he was confident," he protested softly.

"And you were not?" she asked with a grin.

"You two make me sick," Jazz complained as he walked by.

"Only because you haven't found a spark-mate," Chromia said, shooting the silver mech a glare as he rushed away from the blue and silver femme. She looked at Elita, mouthing 'decorum' before walking away.

Elita sighed, straightening up, though she did not step away from Optimus's hold, nor did he left go of her. There were certain rules they had to follow; be it the expectations they had to hold up, or their actions.

"I never thought Chromia would be the one to remind us of decorum," Optimus commented.

She nodded. "She has been pretty strict when it comes to the political game."

"I think it is because she sees it as a war zone, and one that she must conquer," he said.

She sighed. "That sounds like Mia." Her gaze traveled back to Bumblebee who was still chatting with the small, blue femme. Though this time, Smokescreen had joined in. They looked happy, relaxed even, for two different factions who were still at odds with each other. At first, she had been worried that the Autobot and Decepticon Selected's would be stand offish with. But Bumblebee and Smokescreen were friendly mechs, and Arcee was an intelligent femme who knew how to work around in this crazy life they all found themselves in.

"We have made further plans for Kaon," Optimus commented.

Elita sighed, understanding what that meant. The Selected Autobots would go to Kaon to mingle with the Selected Decepticons, just as they were doing in Iacon. But that meant either Elita or Optimus would have to stay in Iacon to make sure things ran smoothly. Then, everyone would return to Iacon for the grand reveal of the Heirs. That was all months away. But still...

"Are you going?" she asked

"We have not come to a decision yet," he answered.

She nodded, leaning into him. She ignored Chromia's warning about decorum. That could wait. At the moment, she was content with watching Bumblebee enjoy the company of his friends.


	6. Chapter 5

Arcee's servos typed quickly on the keyboard as she occasionally glanced over her shoulder. She had to work fast, yet cracking these codes proved to be a lot harder than she thought, as usual. She let out a soft, frustrated growl. He had changed the codes on her...again.

She narrowed her optics as she stared at the screen, watching how the downloading of the file she had pulled up was taking way too long for her comfort. Her servos tightened as she resisted the urge to smash the computer. Whoever came up with the idea of an agonizingly slow download should be shot at!

The red, pulsing screen turned green, showing that the download was now complete. She grinned triumphantly as she pulled out the data card, quickly shutting the screen down. She turned around, clutching the card, only to let out a startled gasp when a faceless mech stared her down.

"Soundwave!" she hissed once her spark returned to a normal, steady pulse. "How did you get in here? I didn't even hear you!"

He just cocked his helm, staring at the card she was still holding. She tightened her grip on it. "Your methods are getting sloppy," she said, not able to resist her grin. "I was able to hack into your systems a lot faster this time."

Soundwave said nothing as she walked past him. Or tried to at least. He swiftly yet effortlessly stepped in front of her, causing her to come to a stop. She frowned. "Soundwave," she said. "I got the information, you failed to stop me. Simple as that." She could see Soundwave inwardly sigh, this time, allowing her to walk past him.

She only got three steps before realizing something was not right. Soundwave never did anything without a good reason. So why had he acted in such a way? She looked around for a nearby computer before quickly plugging the hard drive in, its contents appearing on the screen.

When she had hacked into the secure database, she had managed to download at least twenty records of those in the Autobot Selection. Now, she was just left with three.

"Soundwave," she growled, turning to face the mech. But he was gone. She let out a frustrated huff, pulling the hard drive out and pursuing in the direction she knew he was headed.

"How did you do it?" she demanded, keeping pace with his long strides. "How did you erase more than half my findings?"

He said nothing, only glanced at her, and she could practically see the smirk behind that visor. She bristled. "Fine," she said. "Keep your secrets." She strolled off, reaching for her private comm link.

 _"Huffer,"_ she said.

 _"Nope,"_ came Megatron's answer. _"And I am offended that you would even think that I would have you paired up with someone such as him. In my opinion, he_ _complains too much."_

Arcee frowned. _"Such as him? What's up with that?"_

 _"Oh, nothing."_

She sighed, racking her processor for the names she had managed to glimpse. _"Uh, Nightscream."_

She could hear Megatron sputter. _"No!"_

"Playing that silly little game of yours?" a voice all but sneered. "You know, I never understood why Lord Megatron would waste his time on such frivolous things."

Arcee bit back a sigh as she turned to address the speaker. "Starscream," she greeted.

She could feel Megatron's shock and horror when she said that name. _"If you think for a moment that I would pair you up with such a sniveling-"_

 _"No, Megatron,"_ she said, wincing. _"Starscream is in my presence."_

There was silence for a moment. _"Oh. Very well then,"_ Megatron said. _"I will leave you to it."_

Her optics widened. _"No, wait-!"_ But there was a simple 'click' and the line went dead. She sighed, looking up at the seeker who was studying her with a cocked helm.

"Was that Lord Megatron?" he asked.

"Yes," she said simply, moving to walk past him, but he easily kept pace with her.

"As I said before, I don't understand why he made such a deal with you," Starscream continued. "It could compromise everything we've strived to build." He glanced at her. "Unless, of course, Lord Megatron sees reason to all of this."

"Megatron gave me his word," Arcee said swiftly, an edge in her tone. "If I can manage to find out who the Autobot Heir is and deliver my findings to Megatron, then he will either confirm or deny if I am right." She paused for a brief moment. "I trust him."

"Yes, but putting him on the spot to reveal the most sacred and guarded truth is hardly fair, don't you think?" Starscream said.

"I can keep a secret, Starscream," she answered. "It's how I've survived for so long." Images of Soundwave, Megatron and Optimus flashed through her mind. Images of when these mechs, placing their trust in her reminded her of why she did what she did. Trust was not an easy thing to come by, and she cherished it whenever she earned it.

"There are other means of achieving information and long held secrets," Starscream said, examining his fingers casually.

Her optics narrowed as she caught on to the implied threat. "Is that a warning, Starscream?"

"Just a reminder," he said, walking away.

She stared at his retreating back, optics still narrowed. She never trusted Starscream, and she never liked him. He always rubbed her the wrong way, always made her feel like she was playing a game that only he was aware of. She would come to learn that as politics over the years. The only reason he was aware of her position as the Heir was because he was there when Megatron finally made it through to the Decepticon lines with her in his arms. Only a handful of Decepticons knew who she really was and Megatron only truly trusted Soundwave. And even he was wary around the faceless mech.

It all came down to trust. The war had taught Megatron much. Trust should not be handed out so easily.

She felt someone approaching from behind, and she turned to see Soundwave. She scowled. "Here to collect the rest?" she asked, holding out the data card. "Well, it's not going to be so easy for you."

He just cocked his helm, nodding in the direction Starscream had gone. "Oh, him. It's fine Soundwave, I can deal with it." She frowned, scanning the shadows. "I assume Ark is somewhere around here, reporting to you while trying to give me the illusion of privacy."

Soundwave said nothing, though she could read his body language. It was something she had managed to learn over the years; something she had learned when she was a sparkling.

"Is there another reason for checking up on me?" she asked, feeling a twinge of concern. If Soundwave felt the need to protect her, then something bad was up. But Soundwave just walked by, his servo gently brushing up against her shoulder as he did so. She frowned, confused but deciding that it was not something to bring up. She continued her trek as she walked down the halls, noticing the high windows that offered a view of the city below.

It was then she realized that she was the only being in the large halls. She could not hear anyone, and she had not seen any other Cybertronian save for Soundwave and Starscream. Where were the Autobots?

She heard it a moment too late as someone grabbed her arm, yanking her back and into the shadows. She let out a yelp before twisting her body around to bring her knee up and kick her captor in the stomach. Said captor grunted, but kept a firm hold on her as they pressed her up against the wall. She could feel her blades ready to activate and slash out this mech's optics when the color scheme made her pause.

"Bumblebee?" she demanded.

"Please, just stay quiet," he hissed.

She narrowed her optics, her body tense and ready to fight. "Why?"

"You'll compromise me if you keep talking," he said frantically, his voice low. His optics flickered around and he seemed on high alert. "Please, just trust me."

He said nothing more as he let her go and ducked into another room, vanishing into the shadows. Blinking, she found herself following. She could only stare when he climbed up the cutting of the wall, the darkness hiding him from view.

"Um," she found herself saying, but she stopped when she saw the pleading look he sent her. Sighing, she launched up, grabbing onto the edge of the cutout and joining him up top. She stayed silent and still, evening out her breathing and scanning her surroundings. She noticed how Bumblebee went completely still, though his optics focused on the area around him.

They stayed like that for awhile, neither moving or making a sound. That changed when Bumblebee slowly lowered himself down, his movements quiet for a being so large. His servos didn't even treamble, indicating that he had been trained for situations such as this before. Or at least, that's what she figured.

She landed right next to him, almost as soundlessly as he. She gave him a questioning look, only to find that he was already heading down the halls.

"What was that about?" she asked, catching up to him.

"Sorry," he said, keeping his voice low. He held up a data card. "It's a training exercise Prowl has us go through. Keeps our senses sharp and helps us think on our pedes when in a tight situation. We have to sneak into the 'base,' which is whatever part of the city Prowl chooses, and we have to 'steal' information from the enemy without getting caught. Then we just have to make it out alive."

"Interesting," she said, eyeing the data card. "And you do this often?"

"Often enough to where I know I don't want to fail," he answered. "Prowl can be very strict with how he runs things. Smokescreen tries to loosen him up. Jazz says the kid's been a major improvement on Prowl's formal stiffness." He blinked, looking sheepish. "The, uh, kid being Smokescreen." He shook his helm. "Anyway, if Smokescreen has managed to make such an improvement, as Jazz puts it, then I wonder what he was like before Smokescreen showed up."

"What happens if you fail?" she asked, curious.

He gestured to the data card in his servo. "Our punishments are in these cards. If we fail to complete the mission, whatever assignment or extra work Prowl has for us is in here. We can't let it fall into the 'wrong' servos." He then seemed to take notice of her own data card. He smiled. "Hey, you got one too."

She looked down at the card she was holding and grimaced. "No, not really. It doesn't hold much value now anyway. It's a game I play with...a friend. I'm supposed to gather information that they are trying to hide. But this time, I got caught and they stole over half the data I had gathered."

He grinned. "Really? What's in it?"

She held the data card away with a smirk. "Nothing important."

"If it's nothing important than why are you trying to hide it?" he teased, his optics sparking. That was Arcee's only warning as she ducked out of the way. Within seconds, she was sprinting down the halls, a smile on her face. "It's too important for you!" she shouted.

"I'll be the judge of that," he said, running after her.

Primus he's fast, she thought as she increased her speed. While Bumblebee's long strides easily caught up to her, she used her size to her advantage and jumped out of the way, rolling before sprinting back up. Bumblebee let out a surprised yelp before he had to turn sharply around to avoid colliding into the wall.

She entered into another room, only to realize that it was just a closed off room with no more hallways or doors. From the looks of it, it was just a simple sitting room with tall shelves full of data pads for reading or studying. She inwardly cursed, realizing that Bumblebee would be more familiar with the layout then she would ever be.

"You're trapped," Bumblebee said as he ran into the room.

Arcee narrowed her optics. This was a challenge, and one she was not going to back down to. Especially to an Autobot. She threw the data card up onto one of the shelves, causing Bumblebee to follow its movements. She took that as her chance to scale the shelves after the card. She did not know if what she was doing would be considered as un-proper, but she couldn't bring herself to care. After all, this was a challenge.

She could hear Bumblebee climbing after her and she increased her speed. She briefly lost her footing, which gave Bumblebee enough time to race past her and reach for the data card. She scrambled back up, pulling herself up onto the shelf, her servos closing around the chip the same moment Bumblebee's did.

"Oh no you don't," he muttered, trying to make a firm grab at the card. Arcee lost her balance at the moment and fell back, only for Bumblebee to catch her and pull her forward, preventing her from a painful fall. The shelf they were on shook for a moment, causing them both to freeze.

"Mine," Arcee said simply, grabbing the card. But Bumblebee held the the card up, causing him to fall back. Arcee lunged for the card, causing her to land on top of Bumblebee who tried to roll out of the way. The shelf shook a bit more, and they finally stopped long enough to hope that the whole thing would not crash down because of their weight.

Both Arcee and Bumblebee had their servos over the card with Bumblebee on his back and Arcee on top of him. They both stared at eachother before breaking out into laughter. "This was stupid," she chuckled.

"It's just a data card," he laughed, tossing the thing over to her.

Arcee snatched the card with one servo while using the other to balance herself. She tried to move, but the shelf shook a bit more when she did, and Bumblebee stopped her when he put a servo on her waist. Her face felt warm for some reason, probably from the short excursion. That must also explain why her spark was suddenly pulsing so quickly.

"Wait," he whispered, optics flickering.

She frowned before she too heard it as well. Voices. Her spark quickened once more when she realized that whoever was talking was heading in the direction of the room she and Bumblebee were in. And what a compromising situation they were in as well. She was still on top of Bumblebee and they were both on a shelf, frozen as they heard the Cybertronians approaching. Bumblebee's gaze locked on her's and she knew in that instant that he was well aware of what was going on.

In that instant, Bumblebee wrapped his arms around her slim waist before rolling off the shelf. Arcee bit back a yelp as she was pressed against him. Bumblebee fell on the other side of the shelf with a soundless 'thump.' He didn't even pause in his movements when he rushed out of the room through another exit.

So there had been more than one exit after all. Figures. But she wasn't surprised that Bumblebee knew about it. He did live here after all.

He loosened his grip on her as he sprinted down the halls before letting her go. She ran alongside him, neither saying a word. She followed his lead as he weaved through the confusing halls and passages before they found themselves outside the building. She blinked as the daylight sun hit her optics.

Both she and Bumblebee leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. They glanced at each other before Arcee burst into hysterical laughter. Bumblebee's laughter soon joined hers before they both collapsed on the floor.

"I can't believe that almost happened!" She exclaimed.

"I can't believe we almost got caught by Ultra Magnus," Bumblebee chortled.

Her optics widened, spark nearly dropping. "Ultra Magnus?" she exclaimed, the mirth gone.

He nodded. "I'd recognize his voice anywhere."

Her spark nearly stopped when the realization of what almost happened sunk in. She had almost been caught in an embarrassing situation with an Autobot mech. It didn't matter if what they were doing was all in fun and games. It just would not be perceived as such. Starscream's words echoed back to her about everything Megatron had worked so hard to build. And it all would have fallen because she had messed up and gotten so careless.

She ran a servo over her face. She would just have to be more careful. She was the Heir, and she had to act like one. While she didn't doubt Bumblebee's motives, he was not the Heir and they still had to act a certain way. There were expectations and Ultra Magnus was a close companion of Optimus's. He was also aware of who she really was to Megatron and that she was the Decepticon Heir.

"So," Bumblebee said after a moment. "You got any plans for today?" He didn't even wait for her to answer before he jumped to his pedes. "Because I have something really cool to show you."

Arcee frowned as he took her servos and pulled her to her pedes. "What is it?" she asked, curious.

"You'll see," he grinned when they descended down the stairs. Cybertronians were going about their way, and Arcee glanced around, noting the high buildings and the busy beings around her. Shops were opened, as well as a few vendors selling energon sweets. Bumblebee just strode on until they approached the street where he transformed. She quickly followed in her vehicle form, her engines thrumming to life.

"Exactly where are we going?" she asked as she drove beside him.

"You ever been to the Helix Gardens in Praxus?" Bumblebee asked.

"Once or twice," Arcee admitted. She didn't say that the first occasion was when she had been a youngling and Megatron had taken her to the gardens early in the morning to show her the sparkling crystals. The second time was for some sort of diplomatic mission and she really didn't get to admire the beauty of the crystals as before.

"Well," Bumblebee said. "The Helix Gardens are bit too far for us to simply drive there and make it back in time before sundown. But there is a replica of the Helix Gardens in this very city. It's not exactly the same, but the effects or just as breathtaking."

The ride was somewhat silent with Bumblebee occasionally explaining the buildings they passed by. In a courtyard they drove past, there were statues of the Thirteen Primes. Arcee slowed down a bit to fully take in the large statues towering over them. "Pretty cool, isn't it?" Bumblebee said as he stopped next to her.

"Yeah," she said. She inwardly frowned. "Shouldn't there be a statue of Optimus Prime?"

"These statues were up long before Optimus was around," Bumblebee explained. "And we've been a bit too busy with certain things to worry about adding another statue to the courtyard."

Arcee hummed. "So the gardens?"

"Right!" Bumblebee exclaimed, speeding off.

From then on, the drive was short when Bumblebee came to a stop, transforming in front of the open gates. Arcee also followed, gazing at the crystals towering over the walls. "It looks just like the Helix Gardens!" she said as they entered through the gates. Not many Cybertronians were strolling down the wide streets. "It's beautiful."

Bumblebee nodded, gazing up at the glittering blue crystals that hung over them. A few glowed a faint purple and green while some were a clear white. Some were so clear that she could see her reflection in them. She trailed her servos over one of the crystals, feeling the smooth surface. It was very much like the Helix Gardens in Praxus, if a bit smaller. But she was not complaining.

"You should look at the museums," Bumblebee said, walking beside her. "Some artists have been showing up and some of their work is truly amazing. Though I'm not much of an expert when it comes to art."

She nodded. "The museums in Kaon mostly deal with glass work. It's pretty amazing to see such fragile things twist and wind in elaborate shapes."

Bumblebee smiled. "Elita was telling me how one of her friends, Red Alert, would receive hand made glass flowers before the war from a secret admirer. She would find them at her work, all in different colors and shapes." His smile grew as he looked up at one of the glittering crystals above his helm. "Red Alert still keeps some of the flowers that she had managed to save during the war. I've seen them in her office before and they are really amazing. A lot of work went into those flowers."

Arcee looked at him. "Her secret admirer, what happened to him?"

Bumblebee paused. "He...was a Decepticon. I don't know what happened to him after the war."

And just like that, silence fall down once again, though Arcee refused to think of it as awkward. She blinked. "Is that a red crystal?" she asked in surprise.

"It is!" Bumblebee exclaimed, kneeling to examine the small crystal. "I've never seen one here before." His optics sparkled. "That will be quite a sight if it continues to emerge from the ground."

Arcee grinned. "You come here often?"

"As often as I can," Bumblebee said, straightening up. "It's a quiet place, and it allows me to catch a breather." He looked up. "Do you want to see the rest of the garden? We've got time."

Arcee nodded. She was not ready to return to the duties that awaited her. It was nice to just admire the view of the gleaming gardens in pleasant company. She glanced back at the yellow Autobot. She didn't know why, but Bumblebee was just so easy to befriend and talk to. When she had first met him, he was so open and somewhat innocent. She didn't know why, but they just clicked.

"Thank you for showing me that," Arcee said when they strode down the halls of the iacon building. "We should go back there sometime."

Bumblebee grinned. "And maybe when I'm in Kaon, you can show me those museums."

Arcee smiled. "Most certainly." She was already running through her head which museums he would like and which ones would stand out to him.

As she walked down the halls by herself, she paused, turning to glare at the shadows. "Alright," she said. "Come out. I could use the company."

Ark emerged from the shadows, her expression calm yet calculating. "How was your day?" her protector asked.

"You know how my day went," Arcee said, continuing her walk. It had not escaped her how the dark figure had been following her and Bumblebee in the gardens and during the trip back. "How about yours?"

"It was uneventful," Ark said. "Though I can tell you enjoyed yours."

Arcee nodded with a small smile. "Yes, it was a new experience."

Ark let out a sigh. "Arcee, just remember not to get too competitive when it comes to the Autobots. I was left to explain to Ultra Magnus why the data pads in one of the sitting rooms were on the floor and why the shelf seemed to have moved out of place." Arcee could only gape at her protector and curse how her spark soundly started pulsing so erratically.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So the part about Red Alert receiving glass flowers, I owe that to VampireQueenAkasha. They allowed me to borrow their idea from one of their stories and I truly appreciate it. Major thank you!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Hey readers! I just wanted to say that there had been a glitch in the fanfiction system and that I had updated about a week ago on this story, but that you all might not have gotten a notification. Just wanted to let you know so that you didn't miss out on anything.**

* * *

Arcee could only stare, her expression stoic as Starscream's speech about 'peace' and 'duty' droned on. It was not like she wasn't used to long meetings that failed to catch her interest. She just didn't enjoy them, especially ones that seemed to have no point. Starscream's speeches seemed to carry on more of a way to subtly glorify himself and remind the Autobots of the Decepticons might. A quick glance to her far left showed that Ironhide was itching to say something, which he would never get the chance to do so. Come to think of it, she had never seen the mech speak more than a few sentences at any of the formal gatherings. Given how brash he could be, she had to think that was a good thing.

She took in a breath, resisting the urge to shift. Behind her, she could feel Ark standing at attention. She mentally counted the time, realizing with a start that she had a while to go until the meeting was done with, unless someone claimed the floor without causing a fuss.

Somehow, she doubted Primus would be that merciful to her.

 _"So Arcee,"_ a voice drawled through a private comm link.

She blinked, giving a small start. Megatron shot her a brief look as she regained her composure. Of course, only he would notice such a small movement when it came to her. She gave him a small nod, watching as he returned his attention to Starscream.

 _"We were wondering if you would be so generous as to-"_

 _"No,"_ another voice cut in. _"Whatever it is, leave her out of it."_

 _"Aw, come on Smokes,"_ the voice whined. _"You're no fun."_

 _"I'm smart enough to know that you two are up to no good,"_ the other voice snapped, the one she recognized as Smokescreen.

She frowned. _"How did you know how to contact me_?" she sent.

 _"We have our ways,"_ the voice said mischievously.

Her frown deepened. _"Who is this?"_

 _"Why, Sides! I think the little lady wants to know who we are!"_

 _"Hmm, I think that would be a bad idea, don't you think Sunny?"_

 _"Don't call me Sunny,"_ the other voice snapped, suddenly annoyed.

 _"That's enough you two,"_ Smokescreen snapped. _"You're going to compromise us! We're in the middle of a meeting!"_

 _"Uh huh, like you weren't grateful for the distraction."_ But the connection was cut, leaving Arcee befuddled and confused.

 _"Who was that?"_ she inquired before Smokescreen could cut the connection.

 _"The Troublesome Twins,"_ Smokescreen answered. _"Good company, bad influence. That's the best warning I could give you."_

 _"Who_?" a different voice asked. _"Sunny and Sides?"_

She smiled. _"Hey Bee."_

" _Hey Cee,"_ he chirped back, causing her to blink in surprise. Cee? Where had that come from?

Smokescreen groaned. _"Yep, the Twins,"_ he said. _"They were wanting to know Prowl's newest schedule. One could only guess why."_

 _"Why?"_ Arcee found herself asking before she could stop herself. This wasn't professional, she was supposed to be paying attention to what was going on in the meeting that she barely even knew what was about. Yet, she couldn't help herself. Just a few minutes, she told herself.

 _"After only knowing the Twins for a short time,"_ Bumblebee said. _"You kind of have to figure out real quick that they're pranksters."_

 _"And how'd they know to contact me?"_ she asked. Her optics were drawn to the yellow figure down on the far side of the large meeting room table. Bumblebee looked as if he was engrossed with whatever Starscream was saying, his gaze never leaving the seeker. But Arcee could see how his optics were glazed over and how his doorwings twitched so suddenly, as if in amusement.

 _"Who knows how the Twins are able to do what they do,"_ he replied.

 _"They are a mystery not worth solving,"_ Smokescreen supplied. _"Though I am grateful for the distraction. This was boring me to tears."_

Bumblebee chuckled. _"I was about ready to count the tile on the ceiling."_

 _"Already did,"_ Smokescreen said smugly.

 _"You did not!"_ Bumblebee exclaimed in disbelief.

 _"Forty-thousand two hundred and ninety three and counting,"_ came the oh so smart reply.

There was sudden silence on both ends, and Arcee barely repressed a snort.

 _"You're bluffing,"_ came Bumblebee's reply.

 _"Am I? Am I really?"_

 _"Hey guys,"_ came back the unwanted voice. _"Wanna hear a joke_?"

 _"No!"_ Arcee shouted along with Smokescreen.

 _"Yes!"_ Bumblebee exclaimed.

 _"Bee!"_ Smokescreen shouted. _"That's not a-"_

 _"What is easy to get into, but hard to get out of?"_ Sideswipe asked, plowing on and ignoring Smokescreens protests.

There was a brief moment of silence. _"Uh, Sides,"_ Bumblebee started. _"That's a riddle, not a joke."_

 _"Just answer the question. What is easy to get into but hard to get out of?"_

 _"We are going to be in so much trouble,"_ Smokescreen muttered.

 _"That is correct!"_ Sideswipe cheered. _"Now it is your turn Smokes. Got a riddle?"_

 _"Wait, what?"_ sputtered Smokescreen. _"I don't have a-"_

 _"Tick tock tick tock,"_ sang Sunny, causing Arcee to grin against her will.

 _"Um, what's bigger than you but doesn't weigh anything?"_ Smokescreen asked suddenly.

There was a tense moment of silence and Arcee could see Bumblebee frowning in concentration. _"If you're in space with no density, wouldn't that be whatever is_ _around you?"_ Bumblebee asked.

 _"The riddle wasn't meant for something like that,"_ Smokescreen answered with a sigh. _"And it's your shadow."_

 _"Dude,"_ groaned Sunny. _"That's like the most boring riddle ever."_

 _"What? No it wasn't! And you didn't give me time to prepare for a riddle anyway."_

 _"Riddles are meant to have punch lines that make you laugh."_

 _"Not really."_

 _"What building has the most stories?"_ Arcee asked suddenly.

 _"Oh, the lady's getting in the game,"_ Sideswipe said, and she could hear the grin in his voice. _"I don't know, tell me."_

 _"Just because you're clueless doesn't mean we are,"_ Smokescreen snapped. _"Let us try and guess."_

 _"Library,"_ Bumblebee said suddenly.

 _"Bee,"_ Sunstreaker said. _"She said 'building with most stories,' not-"_

 _"Actually,"_ Arcee said with a grin. _"He's right."_

 _"You cheated!"_ Sunstreaker exclaimed. _"I don't know how, but you did. How could you have come up with the answer so fast?"_

 _"It's one of Elita's favorite riddles,"_ he answered simply and Arcee could have sworn that he sounded quiet smug.

 _"What is brown and sticky?"_ Sideswipe asked suddenly.

Arcee frowned. _"Brown and sticky?"_

 _"Stumped?"_ Sideswipe asked.

She scowled. _"No."_

 _"It can't be a type of energon, unless you two have been getting into things we don't know about,"_ Smokescreen said.

 _"Well, it's not like we would ever tell you, would we?"_ Sunstreaker asked slyly.

 _"I have decided that I don't want to know,"_ Bumblebee said.

 _"Give up?"_ Sideswipe asked. _"It's a stick! Get it? Brown and sticky? Huh, huh?"_

Arcee could hear a sudden coughing fit from someone not too far from her and it was then she noticed Smokescreen straightening up at the looks he was getting. She could see the twinkle in his optics though as he hid his laughter with small coughs. _"Brilliant!"_ Smokescreen said.

 _"Really?"_ Sideswipe asked, dubious.

 _"Poor people have it. Rich people need it. If you eat it, you'll die. What is it?"_ Bumblebee asked.

 _"Scrap,"_ Smokescreen grumbled.

 _"Meh, this is boring,"_ Sunstreaker said suddenly.

 _"Yeah,"_ Sideswipe said. _"Let's get back to work."_

 _"Work?"_ Bumblebee asked. _"You two never work! What are you doing?"_ But his questions went unanswered when the Twins cut the connection.

 _"Freedom?"_ Smokescreen asked suddenly.

 _"What?"_ Bumblebee asked.

 _"Your riddle. Is it freedom?"_ he repeated.

 _"But you can't consume freedom,"_ Arcee pointed out.

 _"But certain freedoms could get you killed."_

 _"But you still can't eat it!"_

 _"Freedom is not the answer,"_ Bumblebee said.

After a few more minutes of trying to guess the riddle, which included a few crazy suggestions on both Arcee and Smokescreens part, Bumblebee got bored. _"Alright,"_ he said finally. _"You both get two more guesses before I tell you the answer."_

Arcee grumbled under her breath, racking her mind for an answer that made sense. _"Sparklings?"_ she asked with no hope.

She could hear Bumblebee sputter. _"What?"_

 _"Never mind,"_ she grumbled. _"I just realized what a stupid answer that was."_

 _"Yeah,"_ Smokescreen piped up. _"Who would eat sparklings?"_

 _"Oh shut up."_

 _"The answer is nothing,"_ Bumblebee sighed.

 _"Hey!"_ Smokescreen exclaimed. _"I still had a turn!"_

 _"Well you both were so pathetic that it was too painful for me to go on,"_ he answered. _"I didn't want you to suffer anymore."_

 _"Well it's nice to know you have such faith in my abilities,"_ Smokescreen huffed. _"I'm outta here."_

 _"I would have guessed that,"_ Arcee teased.

 _"Sure you would have,"_ Bumblebee said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She chuckled, doing her best to stifle it.

 _"I'll talk to you later,"_ she said. _"But right now, it's a bit...dangerous."_

 _"Oh? So I'm dangerous?"_

She rolled her optics. _"Don't flatter yourself."_

 _"Never. I've got you for that."_

She blinked, cutting off the connection in her surprise. She straightened up, focusing her attention on Starscream. It had been fun for the brief moments it had lasted, but now she needed to pay attention and at least think and act like the Heir that she was.

* * *

"So you want to head to the track?" Smokescreen asked, striding toward Bumblebee.

He grinned, rolling his shoulders. "You know it," he said. "I'm ready for a race. Besides, we need to get out of here before whatever the Twins were doing get us in trouble."

Smokescreen smiled. "With all those twists and turns and flips to impress the crowd."

Bumblebee's smile turned into a frown. "Crowd? What crowd?"

He shrugged. "The ones that Blur invited."

Bumblebee narrowed his optics. "Why do I get the feeling that you had something to do with it?"

His friend shrugged. "Hey, it was all on Mirage. He suggested it. And what's so bad about Cybertronians watching the fun, non competitive race?"

"Everything's a competition when it comes to you and Blur," Bumblebee stated.

Smokescreen frowned. "He started it," he grumbled. "And don't act like you're not competitive too."

"Whatever," Bumblebee said with a sigh, though he didn't bother to deny it. Yes, he was competitive and he enjoyed the thrill of a race. "So the race is on?"

* * *

Arcee observed the dirt track in front of her. Though it wasn't used for professional racing, it was still an impressive sight. It stretched on in a few twisting turns with a ramp up in the distance. She couldn't see any farther than that, but the anticipation was suddenly there and alive.

She loved the thrill of speed. She loved pushing her limits and seeing how fast she could go and the feeling of taking flight. She had to wonder if that was how Seekers felt when they flew. She would feel the wind and air rush past her and how she would sometimes leave the ground for a split moment when she was going too fast. The thrill was there, as was the fun and recklessness.

"Would you like to scout it out?" Moonracer asked, standing beside her. "Get a feel of the track?"

Arcee frowned, still gazing at the track. "I would, but do I have time?"

Moonracer pursed her mouth in a grim line. "Probably not. We'll be starting soon."

"Then I'll just have to wing it." She didn't like going in unprepared. But this wasn't politics. It was fun. She had nothing but her dignity to lose, and she had no intentions of crashing and burning.

"Well, my suggestion is not to come in fourth," Moonracer said, leaning in. "There are a group of...Bots here who will be watching and judging you on your performance."

Arcee's frown deepened. "Why just my performance? I thought this was just a harmless game."

"It is," Moonracer said. "But it won't be just you they'll be watching." She nodded to a Decepticon who Arcee recognized but did not know by name. Then it became clear what Moonracer was trying to say.

"They'll be...watching you because you are a Decepticon on Autobot territory. This," Moonracer gestured to the track. "Is Autobot turf. And while your performance shouldn't matter much, it's best to be safe. You know," she shrugged. "Just in case."

Arcee understood. She was a Decepticon. They would be trying to study and see if she was worth being a member of the Selection. Now it was politics. Or was it? Did a simple race really matter in the long run? So what if she lost? Would anyone really remember?

Her gaze went to a red mech standing nearby. Mirage; a noble born. He might remember and considering how he felt about the Selection made her rethink her thoughts on the race and how she presented herself. Her optics flickered over to another figure. There was Firestar, an Autobot Selected femme. While she wasn't unfriendly, she did look at the Decepticons with wariness.

Names and figures went by, and suddenly, Arcee saw it all laid out in front of her. It was like a battle, one that she and Soundwave would play. She couldn't win, though the odds of her coming in first place were very slim. But she couldn't flunk it. The Decepticon reputation was suddenly there.

"Would third place work?" she asked.

Moonracer looked at her, tilting her helm. "Most certainly. But maybe you could sit this one out?"

No way was she doing that because a group of stuck up Autobots wanted to judge her. "Or maybe you and I could scout it out," she said, slipping out of the crowd.

She hadn't really expected Moonracer to follow her, but the femme surprised her. "I have a better idea," she said, grabbing Arcee's arm. "I'll give you a thorough map. It should at least give you a feeling of the layout, that way you won't be caught by surprise."

Arcee smiled, slightly surprised. "Thank you," she said, following the femme. "Will you be racing?"

Moonracer hesitated. "No, not this time." Her optics flickered for a moment. "Maybe the next race."

"I'll look forward to it," she said genuinely.

Moonracer smiled as she passed a datapad to Arcee. "The track is open at all times, so missing out is no big deal."

"Except now there's a crowd," she pointed out.

Moonracer shrugged. "Well, yes. There's that. But that's because Blur and Smokescreen have been at it for a while, and it's always entertaining to see them duke it out."

Arcee smirked. "I'll bet."

"Arcee! You racing?" Bumblebee shouted, coming forward. It was hard to miss him in the crowd with his bright yellow paint job. It was a cheerful color that made him stand out, much like his personality.

Arcee raised an optic ridge, placing a servo on her hip. "Of course I am. Are you?"

Bumblebee's optics sparked at the silent challenge. "Wouldn't miss it." He looked like he was going to say more, but he was interrupted by Mirage.

"Bumblebee," he greeted. "What will we be expecting from you?" His tone had a slight teasing note to it as he regarded the other mech.

Bumblebee just shrugged. "Don't know. We'll have to see what Smokes and Blur will do, then I'll improvise so I'll stand out."

 _You already do_ , Arcee thought silently, but she said nothing. The two mechs drifted away, leaving the two femmes alone once again. "A noble born who is not part of the Selection," Moonracer said, though there was no scorn in her voice. Only intrigue and a bit of...disappointment?

"Yes," Arcee said, not looking up from the datapad she was now scanning. "It is a wonder that he was not chosen."

"He's a good mech," Moonracer said quickly. "Very noble and considerate."

"Some might say he's stuck up," Arcee said, slowly looking up to subtly study the other femme.

Moonracer shrugged. "Not really. Only those who don't know him say that." She gestured to the datapad. "Will this help?"

Arcee looked back down at the datapad in her servos. "Yes, just a bit." She sighed. "Politics and factions need to mess up everything."

"Or throw a wrench in it," Moonracer said with a smirk. "It's an inside joke for the Autobots," she explained at Arcee's raised optic ridge. "When we were younglings, Ratchet would whack us with the wrench if we misbehaved during our check-ups. He still does, but 'throwing a wrench' has become another inside joke because of him."

She placed a servo on Arcee's shoulder. "And hey, it's all for fun anyway. I can guarantee you that none of this will even matter in the long run. It's all harmless and good fun. I only told you about this because I thought it would be a good heads up."

Arcee grinned, handing the datapad back to Moonracer. "And you were right. Thank you." She rolled her shoulders, spark beating faster at the anticipation. "So, when does the race start?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: I do not own the riddles, nor did I come up with them. Just throwing that out there.**


	8. Chapter 7

Bumblebee really enjoyed spending time with Arcee. Over the weeks of the Decepticons stay at Iacon, she was the one he hung out with the most. She was interesting and very friendly. She would smile and the conversations they would have was always interesting natural and light.

He enjoyed spending time with her, whether it was looking over datapads in the Iacon Hall of Records or racing, he enjoyed it. He had been surprised to find out that her favorite spot was at the glass gardens. She had explained that there was something about watching the light reflecting the crystals that calmed her.

It was reassuring to know that there was someone else out there, besides himself and Smokescreen, who was a bit wary about the Selection. Having a Decepticons perspective on the whole situation was interesting and it showed him that they were not so different except by the faction symbols on their arms.

When Bumblebee had been a youngling, he had been reluctant to make friends, especially, when he got older, with femmes. Somehow, Smokescreen had wiggled his way into Bumblebee's life and had become a true companion. But when he had meet Moonracer, he had been so surprised at how open and bubbly she was. It had been so easy to befriend her, that he had panicked for a moment and tried to scramble away from the friendship they were forming.

But after talking with Elita, who had assured him that yes, it was alright for him to be friends with a femme and yes it was alright to be close to her. Even call the feelings he had for her love. But it wasn't the love one would have for a mate. No, Bumblebee would come to learn that there were many forms of love. One was of friendship.

 _"I love Ultra Magnus,"_ _she had explained._ _"He has been my friend long before I met Optimus. But it was not the love I have for my mate."_ _She had gently touched_ _Bumblebee's face._ _"It is alright to love someone, it takes many forms."_

He loved Smokescreen and he loved Moonracer. And at some point, he began to call the feeling he had for Arcee as love. Nothing more than the love one would feel for a very close friend.

He enjoyed seeing her laugh, rare as it was. She would smirk knowingly or give off one of those small smiles. But the times when she would truly smile and laugh made Bumblebee feel like he had accomplished something.

He transformed in front of the race track, hearing the sound of a familiar engine finishing a lap around the road. He smiled, noticing the blue alt form speeding toward him before transforming and landing with practiced grace.

"You started without me," he teased with a huff.

Arcee just grinned, her optics twinkling. "For a speedy bot, you do take your time."

"Fashionably late," he said simply. It had been an unspoken agreement between the two of them at what times to meet to race at the mostly empty track. They both loved the thrill of speed and the competition. On their first race, the one when Blur and Smokescreen had their famous competition, Bumblebee had noticed how quiet Arcee had been. She seemed to be tense, alert.

It did not go unnoticed by him how some bots were casually watching the few Decepticons in the race, the same with the Decepticons watching the Autobots. It became somewhat clear what was going on.

But here, when it was just the two of them, Arcee was suddenly head strong and competitive. She was not shy in the slightest, just quiet and watchful. She was vocal when she felt the need to speak up.

Arcee chuckled, but it wasn't a full laugh, much to his disappointment. "Or you were taking your time to prepare yourself," she said, striding forward with a subtle cockiness.

He raised an optic ridge. "Oh? Preparing myself for what?"

She was now standing right in front of him, her helm tilted back to stare into his optics. Were her optics always that bright?

"To lose," she said simply, jumping back and transforming, speeding off onto the track.

Bumblebee blinked, momentarily stunned before transforming and racing after her. The air was filled with the sounds of two engines racing up the ramps and down the roads. Because of her small form, Arcee was able to maneuver faster, but Bumblebee had been racing from the moment he could transform. It's what happens when he has fast friends like Smokescreen, Blur and Hot Rod.

Bumblebee took a sharp turn, passing Arcee before adding a burst of speed. He couldn't help but let out a victory laugh, though Arcee was not far behind him. Rather, she was just trying to past him.

He smirked. Oh she was good. But he was better. He swerved right, blocking her and preventing her from trying to pass.

There were many different roads on the track. Bumblebee and Arcee never took the long ones for intense racing. The racing they did was more for fun and never professional. Mostly it was just to see who was faster and the winner got to gloat until the next race. Usually, that was every two days as the loser always demanded a rematch.

And that was how they were both stuck in this little routine of theirs.

Bumblebee didn't even slow down when he transformed, leaping into the air before tucking into a roll, springing upward. He was breathing heavily, his spark hammering from the alderine and his smile was wide.

"Beat ya," he couldn't help but say, his optics scanning for Arcee.

"Nope, I call it a tie," she said suddenly at his side. His helm snapped to look at her from where she was kneeling in the ground.

He blinked. "What? There is no way that was a tie!"

She hummed. "Oh yes it was."

"Oh no it wasn't."

"Then I guess we'll have to race again," she said simply.

He folded his arms. "I guess we will."

They both stared at each other, neither one wanting to be the one to yield. But Bumblebee was never good at that. His doorwings twitched in amusement before he was chuckling.

"Just admit I won," Arcee said, striding up the tracks with Bumblebee at her side.

"I thought it was a tie," he pointed out.

"So you admit it was a tie," she said triumphantly.

He blinked. "I never said…"

"You admitted it," she said with a smirk.

He frowned. "Fine. It was a tie. Only because you didn't win," he said quickly.

She nudged his shoulder playfully. "Whatever helps you recharge at night, Bee."

"My nightlight and stacks of datapads do that for me," he said. He grinned at the look she gave him. "The last part is true though."

"I'm not surprised that you read so much," she said. "You're always in the Iacon Hall of Records."

"My guardians encouraged it," he said. All five of them, he thought silently.

She grinned. "Mine as well. Though he was more persistent with tactical advantages and military combat."

Bumblebee nodded thoughtfully. "He never really left the war, huh?"

"I suppose he never really did," she answered. "He still has a certain routine he goes through every day. And he passed that onto me. Sometimes he forgets that we are no longer fighting a war. It's like he is preparing for an attack that only he can see and understand." She frowned. "He is not the one to trust so easily."

Bumblebee was silent for a moment, mulling over what she had said. In many ways, he saw it in the war veterans in Iacon. From the scars, to their actions and words. He saw it in Optimus and Elita and in pretty much everyone in his life. Even sweet and soft spoken Red Alert seemed to be stuck in an endless roll of preparation, like she couldn't believe all the fighting was over. Or maybe she was mourning the love she had lost during the war. Maybe both.

It was hard to believe that he had been sparked during the war itself. That in a few years he would have been taught how to fight and kill; how to spy and survive. Would he have lived long enough? What horrors would he have faced, what would he have lost had Optimus and Megatron not come to a mutual agreement?

"I was…" he started slowly. "I was sparked during the war. Optimus Prime and Ironhide had found me." He was aware that Arcee was looking at him, paying attention to every word he was saying. "I don't know where I came from, only that I am happy and content with where I am. But I realize that had it not been for Optimus and Megatron, I might have been like them. Battle weary. Or maybe I wouldn't have lived long enough to become like that. We'll never know because of them."

Arcee was silent, her expression thoughtful. "Why are you doing this?" she asked. "Why are you in the Selection?"

They had left the track behind and were now entering a more civilized part of the city. Cybertronians were going about their business, at peace.

"Here," he said, gently pulling her toward him. "See that mother?" Arcee leaned against him, trying to see where he was pointing and he tried to ignore how his spark skipped at her touch.

"I see them," she said, noticing the orange Cybertronian with the two sparklings. At that moment, a mech approached the orange femme, making her smile when he wrapped his large arms around her slim waist. The two younglings chirped happily, their pure faces radiating trust and innocence. The father, his scarred and broken servos gantly caressed one younglings helm while his mate leaned against him, her wary optics watching her family with love.

"That is why I am in the Selection," Bumblebee said. "Because I want to keep that peace. I want those younglings to grow in a world where they do not need to fear war. I want to give them," he nodded to the mother and father. "A chance at peace and a life that had been taken from them." He paused. "And if...when I have a family of my own, I want them to be safe. That is why I am in the Selection."

Arcee was still leaning against him with his servos on her slim waist. They stayed like that, watching the family, both noticing how the father seemed to still be alert, watching his younglings like a scraplet to metal while his mate leaned in against him. Bumblebee could feel Arcee sigh, both their expressions thoughtful.

He tried to push the thought away, tried to ignore the very thought screaming at him that he was kinda, sorta...holding Arcee. Friends held each other like this all the time and had these strange pulses in their sparks with the sudden nervous feelings. It was normal.

Right?

* * *

"You look worn out," Moonracer said.

Arcee cracked a tired grin. "Wow, thanks for letting me know."

Moonracer hooked her arm through Arcee's, dragging her into the large lounge room. Ark trailed not too far behind, her steps measured and careful like the trained body guard she was.

The femme's lounge room was large and comfortable with seatings and open windows with a view of the glimmering, nice part of the city. No mechs were allowed in, not even Optimus Prime. It was open to the guests, the servants and the Selected. Arcee hadn't spent much time in the lounge room as doing so meant she had to socialize when she didn't want to. She didn't need a room dedicated for relaxing just to wind down! She could do that in her spacious berth room.

"You and Bee been racing?" Moonracer asked as she dragged Arcee to sit down on one of the large seats.

She hesitated, resting her helm on the headboared. "Yeah, we have. He's been really competitive." That, and they spent most of the time walking around the city. It was nice to walk around and hang out with someone she was starting to consider a friend. Bumblebee was open and friendly. He was considerate and never seemed to feel any negative thoughts about the situation he was in, something she really liked. She could almost ignore the constant presence of Ark and the occasional minicon flying overhead.

She wondered if the Autobot Heir went through the same surveillance as her. She wondered if she had passed him by in the halls before. Maybe Bumblebee knew him, yet didn't know him yet.

Her optics caught sight of a femme sitting right across from her seat, her posture straight and commanding respect. Arcee smirked. If she wasn't the Decepticon Heir, and if it hadn't been announced that the Autobot Heir was a mech, she would have believed that Firestar was the Heir. The femme was smart and regal in how she acted, almost mature and wise beyond her age. There were some who still believed that the announcements of the Heirs were a hoax and a cover up to hide who the real Heirs were. Which Arcee found ridiculous. It had been announced that the Autobot Heir was a mech, and the Decepticon Heir was a femme, plain and simple.

Now, if the announcement had come from Megatron, then she could see where some might think otherwise. But Optimus Prime himself had been the one to give the announcement, and she had heard it plenty of times from Megatron how his former brother couldn't lie to save his life.

She wasn't so sure about that, but she never said so.

But Firestar was a femme who knew what she was doing. And right now, she was staring at Arcee, her helm tilted like she was trying to figure her out. Arcee just smiled, letting the other femme know she had been caught staring.

"What do you think, Firestar?" a femme said suddenly, her voice piercing through Arcee's thoughts.

The red femme turned to face the speaker, her optics drifting upward as if in thought. "I'd have to say Ultra Magnus."

The femme gaged. "Ultra Magnus? Girl! He's like...older than you."

"You asked who you thought I found interesting," Firestar said calmly. "Not who I was interesting in." She crossed her legs. "Big difference."

"What's going on?" Arcee whispered, leaning into Moonracer.

"We sometimes have random discussions," Moonracer said simply. "Right now, it seems to be leaning toward what your type of mech is."

"He is regal and smart and has served at our Prime's side during the time of the war," Firestar was saying.

"Yeah, we get it," the other femme said. "You like the silent, stiff ones." Firestar bristled, but stayed silent.

"What about you, Moonracer?" Arcee asked softly so that the green femme would be the only one to hear. "Who are you interested in?" She was aware that such talk was dangerous. It wouldn't get them in trouble with anyone, but it could open some unwanted feelings. Setting yourself up for what might not be was bound to lead to disappointment. Like Firestar who might wind up with a loud Decepticon mech. With the Selection, you never really knew.

"Yeah Moonracer," the other femme piped up, causing Arcee to wince. She didn't think she had been loud when she asked the question. "Who are you interested in?"

Arcee sent Moonracer an apologetic look, but the green femme wasn't paying attention. Her shoulders were stiff and her servos were clasped together.

"Is it Bumblebee?" the femme asked, causing Arcee to stiffen up suddenly with a small frown.

Moonracer scoffed. "Please Windy. Bee is more like my brother than anything else."

Windy cocked her helm. "So would you guys form a brother-sister bond when the Selection is done with?"

Moonracer hesitated. "I don't know," she confessed. "We've always been close that I guess we never thought about it."

Arcee blinked. "Really?"

Moonracer shrugged. "Well, we'd have to go through the Selection first and all that."

"So," Windy said with a grin. "If it's not Bee, then who is it?"

"I think Mirage is an interesting mech," she said quickly. "He's...nice."

"A noble as well," Arcee cut in, noticing Moonracers discomfort. She could read body language very well and she had no intentions of making Moonracer uncomfortable.

"What about you, Arcee?" Firestar asked. "Who are you interested in?"

Windy perked up. "Yeah, let's see what you think."

What a Decepticon thinks, she couldn't help but silently say bitterly. Though she could see the silent challenge in Firestar's optics. No way was she going to let that femme get away with this silent stand-off.

She tilted her helm back, thinking. She had never been interested in the Decepticons, other than the time when she was a youngling and had a small fascination with Soundwave. One might even have called it a crush Did that count as being interested in someone? Yeah, it probably did. She hadn't been around the Autobots long to really make an assumption. The Twins were trouble, yet they were fun to be around. Smokescreen was nice and eager, if a bit of a show-off. And Bumblebee…

 _"I want them to be safe. That's why I am in the Selection."_

Her optics widened ever so slightly, her thought process coming to a halt.

"No, I'm not interested in anyone at the moment," she said curtly, ignoring the triumphant look in Firestar's optics.

* * *

 _"Come here Bumblebee," Optimus said gently, holding his servo out._

 _Bumblebee slowly entered the room, noting how the chairs were out of place, as if someone had thrown them. He curled up in Optimus's arms, the warmth of the Prime's spark soothing to him._

 _"Is Mia mad?" he asked timedly._

 _Optimus sighed. "Yes, Mia is mad," he answered softly._

 _Bumblebee looked up. "At you?"_

 _Optimus didn't look at him, his expression far away. "Yes, she is really mad at me right now."_

 _"But why?" Bumblebee asked, sitting up. "Why is she mad at you?"_

 _The words came out heavy, and full of guilt. "Because I...made a decision that she does not like. A decision that even I do not like."_

 _"But if you do not like it, why'd you make it?"_

 _Finally, Optimus looked down at the youngling in his arms. "I do not know. I...thought I was helping people. I thought that my decision would be the best hope for peace."_

 _Bumblebee frowned. "Did it help people?"_

 _Optimus hesitated, as if unsure. But Bumblebee shook that thought away. Optimus was never unsure about anything. "I hope so, Bumblebee," he said softly. "I hope so."_

 _Bumblebee snuggled closer to his guardians spark chamber. "Then it must be a good decision."_

 _Another memory was of Optimus silently begging Bumblebee for his forgiveness. At that age, he wasn't sure why Optimus was so distraught, only that he wanted to make Optimus feel better. So he told the Prime over and over again that it was alright, that he was forgiven for whatever sin he had committed. Optimus just held him close, and Bumblebee could feel the guilt washing over him from the Prime._

Bumblebee opened his optics, chasing away the memory. He stared up at the ceiling of his berth room, lost in thought.

He glanced over at the datapads that had failed to catch his interest and let out a small groan. He turned over, trying to fall back into recharge.

When that became pointless, he got up, trudging to a certain, hidden space in the wall that only he could find. Reaching in, he grabbed a worn out datapad. His servo knocked something over, casting a blue light in the dark space.

He stared at the Key Card, putting it back and out of sight. It had been one of the greatest gifts Optimus could have ever given him. It had once been the Prime's and he had given it to Bumblebee. He had treasured the Key Card he had been given, putting it away so he could look at oit and keep it safe.

He flipped through the data pad, coming to his favorite entry.

 _You wanted to know what I've been up to? Well, for starters, I'm in trouble. Apparently you cannot get away with ziplining without safety harnesses and other junk. Megatron had a fit when he found out about it. 'You're not a Seeker,' he says. 'I have no intentions of having to find a new Heir. You're one of a kind.' It was one of the rare moments he told me he loved me while yelling at me. It was a special day. Then Soundwave had to hide the ziplining stuff. But...I know where to find them anyway. When we meet, you and I will have to try it out. Don't worry, I promise it'll be safe._

 _What about you? I know you like to race and all that. Don't let Ironhide get to you with all that training. He sounds like he just want's the best for you, to keep you safe. It's the same way with my instructors._

 _Other then that, my life has been the way it always is. Normal, which is how I kinda like it. If normal means traveling around to different sights and new experiences, then I can't complain._

 _I look forward to hearing from you again._

He stared at the datapad thoughtfully. It was his favorite because he got a glimpse of who his future mate was. She was reckless and a daredevil. She loved her guardian and saw reason to certain situations. He had kept all the datapads she had sent him during their brief time of communication. He could never remember what he had said in reply to her messages, but he remembered what she wrote.

He understood why they had to stop writing to each other. Someone had nearly hacked into their messages and Optimus and Megatron had deemed it wise to put a stop to it. But he still kept her messages, to remind himself that she was just like him, that she was flawed and confused about the arrangement.

He sighed. Primus, she sounded so young. What was she like now? Was she still careless and spunky? Or was she mature and quiet?

He settled back down into his berth, closing his optics and letting the events of the day wash over him


	9. Chapter 8

Arcee enjoyed her stay in Iacon, which had surprised her. She did not like moving around from place to place, but she had grown accustomed to it as travel became a regular thing in her life. Megatron did not like to leave her with anyone. Not even with Soundwave. So, as a youngling, she had been stuck going all over Cybertron with him.

She saw many things in her travels. She saw cities of great wealth and towns of great poverty. The land was still war torn and it was hard for her to imagine it being anything else. Megatron was no help in that matter, as he still held intense bitterness for his life in Kaon. Arcee had never truly heard about Megatron's life as a gladiator until she got older. She used to be so proud of Megatron for being 'a great warrior.' Now, she was disgusted and horrified with the facts and reality that life presented her with. She thanked Primus every day that Megatron was strong enough to crawl out of the Pits of Kaon. Though she knew others would not share her joy. But she could care less. He was her father in every way but energon. Speaking to him so formally nearly drove her mad and when she had been a youngling, she had slipped up and called out to him as her sire. Soundwave had taken her aside and calmly explained to her why she could not address him as such. She had not understood, but she listened and waited to act like Megatron's daughter behind closed doors.

She was used to the constant theories regarding the Decepticon Heir. At times, it irked her to say the least. Some of the most outlandish ones was if she was actually a mech. But it was fun in a way to see what others thought. But there were times when her annoyance would flare up when she heard some of the topics of conversation, including if it involved any scandal and false information about her and Megatron.

She let out a frustrated hiss as she glared at the datapad, wanting to smash it. This was insulting! How dare they even say such things! They had no proof of their wild theories!

"Woah," she heard a voice. "What's got you so upset?"

Arcee turned to face Bumblebee, her face softening a bit. But that quickly changed back to a scowl. "This," she huffed, crossing her arms as Bumblebee looked over the datapad. "Can you believe it?"

Bumblebee frowned as he read out loud what was written. "Drag Strip: the Heir of the Decepticons?" He blinked, looking stunned and slightly horrified. "Wh-what? What's their reasoning behind that?"

"I don't know!" Arcee exclaimed, snatching the data pad and pacing. "But it's insulting."

"It could be right," Bumblebee said, his voice on the verge of panic.

She scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Drag Strip has no back bone and is a disgrace to the Selection. She's been involved in more scandals than anyone. I'm surprised Megatron hasn't cut her off from the Selection."

Bumblebee blinked. "Well, he should, in my opinion. Maybe he hasn't because she's-"

"She is not the Heir," Arcee interrupted, looking away.

"How can you be so sure!" he exclaimed.

"Because I am sure," she said simply, striding down the stairs. "You'll see."

"Speaking of which," Bumblebee said, catching up to her. "What do you...um, what do you think about the Selection?"

At Arcee's confused look, he shrugged. "I mean, you asked me a while ago and it got me thinking about why you joined and why you're still in it."

Arcee frowned thoughtfully, looking upward. The question bothered her and she hoped it did not show on her face. She never gave it much thought, despite the fact that the Selection was a part of her life just as her arms and legs were. It had always been an act of duty, something she grew accustomed to knowing that it was what she had to do. Yes, the fact of being bonded to an Autobot mech she did not know bothered her and yes, she had argued with Megatron on it before.

It had never occurred to her about bringing peace. Well, maybe in the back of her mind it did. But it was not a constant reminder, a consolation of what was taken away from her. It was a major part of her life that had been ripped away from her when she was a sparkling. She had no say and no choice in the matter and to be honest, she was scared.

She was scared of what was coming, of what she was to do. She did her best to hide it well. It was another one of her masks that she wore. But alone in her berth room, in the dark, she would be reminded of what was to come.

She wrapped her arms around herself, looking down at the metal street they walked, a shadow looming over her. "I do not know," she confessed, her voice soft.

Bumblebee said nothing and she could not bring herself to look up into his bright presence, that warmth and hope that she failed to feel.

"You could always drop out," Bumblebee said.

A spark of anger grew in her. She did not have that freedom Bumblebee had. She could not just drop out just because she wanted to. Doing so would destroy everything Megatron had fought and sacrificed for.

He sacrificed you, a treacherous voice whispered, but she ignored it.

"Why don't you drop out?" she asked, her voice harsh.

Bumblebee blinked, perhaps surprised at her tone or at the question. She could not bring herself to care.

"Because...I'm playing my part to bring peace," he said quietly.

"But that's not your burden," Arcee said. "It doesn't matter if you drop out, or if everyone does. All that matters is that the two Heirs come together to make a bond. What happens to you and everyone else? You get stuck in a loveless bond because you felt like you were doing something important by sacrificing the most important decision in your life?" Like Megatron did to me, she thought. But she pushed past that little voice once more.

"Well you can thank Megatron for that," Bumblebee said, his optics sparking with anger that looked unnatural in his optics. "He started the war and he came up with this whole arrangement in the first place."

"First of all," Arcee said, stepping close. "Megatron started the war to rid Cybertron of the caste system and he created the arrangement in an effort to bring peace."

"He could have always surrendered if he had been able to swallow his pride!" Bumblebee retorted.

"And be treated as a war criminal?" Arcee demanded. "And have the Decepticons lose their territory and all that they fought for? What of Optimus? Why couldn't he surrender?"

"Because any attempts were met with bloodshed and death," Bumblebee argued. "Megatron would not listen to any attempts at peace!"

"Why does it always come down to Megatron?" Arcee exclaimed. "Optimus is just as guilty as he is!"

"Because Optimus was not the one to cut the bond between the two of them. Because Optimus was not the one to attack cities and destroy lives. Optimus did not believe in achieving peace through violence and he was not the one to declare purging Cybertron of the Old Guard by force." Bumblebee took a step forward. "So what caused Megatron to change all of the sudden?"

Me, Arcee thought silently. She had been his reason. She had been his drive to peace. That was what she had been told and she always believed it.

"The Decepticons were made up of the lowest caste systems; slaves, gladiators, beggars, the crippled. They had no help from the Council that Optimus followed," she said.

"Optimus did not follow the Council because it disbanded during the war."

"Only because Megatron was the reason for riding Cybertron of its corruption!"

At this point, they were shouting at each other and had drawn a bit of attention to themselves. Arcee jumped when she felt someone lightly touch her shoulder. She snapped her helm up to look into Ark's optics. "You are causing a scene," the other femme said. The tension in Arcee's body was gone instantly and by the time she glanced back, Bumblebee was gone.

She slumped against Ark, suddenly feeling tired and worn, her spark heavy with all that had been said.

* * *

"What'd you two get into? A lovers spat?"

Hot Rod suddenly found himself pinned against the wall with Bumblebee's servo at his throat. The yellow mech's blue optics sparked in anger and frustration, everything suddenly ticking him off from the weather to the noise.

He eased the pressure on Hot Rod's throat before releasing him. "Sorry," he muttered before leaving the room.

Why did this affect him so much? Was it because he desired the freedom that Arcee had? Was it because someone was wrongly accusing Optimus Prime, the mech who was a father to Bumblebee, and he just wanted to defend him?

He refused to acknowledge that what Arcee had said held some truth. Not after brooding about it for two hours did he at least go over what had been said did he reluctantly agree that she also had a point as well.

Guilt and despair overcame him as he hugged his knees to his chest as he sat at the edge of the open roof spot. He had found this place when he was a youngling and often came up here to hide and have some alone time. It was not until a few years later did he realize that he had not been the first to come up here. Optimus and Elita had often come up when they were Orion Pax and Ariel. It had been their way of escape as well. The Prime had laughed at the look of surprise on Bumblebee's face while Elite-One had commented on how cute he looked in his naive innocence.

The spot offered a view of the dark city below. The high towers blocked most of the light, casting shadows and giving off a mysterious feel that he enjoyed. But if he came up early enough, he could feel the nice rays of sun on his body when he would rest or read. The small platform was large enough for five Cybertronians to comfortably sit on, provided that they stayed away from the ledge. Optimus had voiced his opinion on putting up a railing for safety, but Bumblebee had stated that he liked the open ledge, as at some points, he could envision himself jumping off and flying away. Of course, he never told anyone that since such a phrase would raise some concern. Plus, he loved to dangle his legs over the edge and see how high up he really was.

But only a select few of his closest friends knew of this place. Other then that, this was all his own.

"Thought I might find you up here," a voice said.

He did not look up. "Moonracer," he said simply.

He heard her let out a sigh. "So what'd I do to tick you off?" She sat down right next to him, her legs dangling over the edge. Moonracer was not one to shy away from stuff like that. She and Bumblebee had brought Mirage up once and the mech had almost panicked when he saw how close Moonracer sat at the edge. The look on his face had nearly sent Bumblebee into fits of laughter. Mirage had almost become a mother hen, a fact that annoyed Moonracer, yet amused her.

"So how was your day?" Moonracer asked. He noted how nice and shiny her armor was, as if she had just buffed it.

He leaned back, letting out a breath. "Fine," he said. "The city was busy, the datapads interesting, the gossip boring." He paused for a moment, content with just sitting, though he tried to avoid certain unpleasant thoughts.

"Moonracer," he asked suddenly. "Can I ask you something personal?"

Moonracer tilted her helm. "Sure Bee. Though we've known eachother since we were sparklings. I don't know how personal you can get unless you're asking me to be your sparkmate."

That got a smirk from Bumblebee. It had been a common tease between the two of them because of a random comment Smokescreen had made about how close Bumblebeee and Moonracer were. They had often played 'family' together when they were younglings with Bumblebee and Moonracer being the parents of a headstrong, yet grumpy Smokescreen.

"If it's too personal, then you can always say no and I'll never ask again," he continued.

Moonracer raised an optic ridge. "Uh oh, maybe you are proposing to me." But she allowed him to continue.

"What's preventing you from dropping out of the Selection?"

Moonracer paused, pursing her lips. "I...honestly don't know," she confessed and Bumblebee stiffened up. The last time a femme had said that, it had ended in an argument.

"I actually…" Moonracer started, visibly struggling for words. "I've been thinking of...dropping out."

Bumblebee blinked. "You have?"

She shrugged, suddenly looking ashamed. "I...it's something I've been thinking about. But I've never really truly considered it."

Bumblebee opened his mouth, his mind a blur. But he took in a deep breath to calm himself down. "Can I ask why?"

She shrugged. "I...don't know that either...yet." She let out a frustrated sigh, looking up. "I'm so confused. I feel like I'm betraying the Autobots for even thinking this, yet I feel conflicted and-"

"Moony, you're not betraying the Autobots," Bumblebee interrupted. "The only bond that matters is the bond between the Autobot and Decepticon Heirs." He looked into her optics. "It is not a betrayal. Many others before you have dropped out."

Moonracer frowned, her shame fading away and it pained Bumblebee. How long had Moonracer felt this way? Had she stayed quiet out of fear of what others might think? Such a feeling was a powerful motivator but it hurt Bumblebee to think that one of his closest friends was afraid of him. He may not agree or understand, but that did not mean he would suddenly drop his friends because they did not see eye to eye.

"What about you?" Moonracer asked. "Why do you stay?"

Bumblebee's answer was sure and swift. "To do my part in bringing peace."

Moonracer placed a servo over Bumblebee's. "But it is not your burden."

"It is mine to share," he said, looking up to meet her optics. "And my decision."

She gave his servo a comforting squeeze. "You alright?" she asked.

Bumblebee looked back at the city below. "I will be," he said. "It was just a squabble with a friend."

"Well, resolve it fast and don't let it stew," Moonracer said. "And you better get ready for the get together-"

"That's today?" Bumblebee yelped suddenly, straightening up.

"Tonight," Moonracer confirmed. "I scratched my paint in a few places to come up here." Oh, so that's why she looked so nice.

She frowned. "You forgot?" Her optics widened. "Please tell me you didn't!"

"I'm dead," Bumblebee moaned, running out of the small opening to the ledge and jumping down in the small room. He ignored Moonracer's shout of "Bumblebee! That's like the most important event!"

He rushed out, running as if Unicron himself was chasing after him. He maybe had enough time to shine up his paint job and buff out any dents and make himself look presentable. Or decent at least. Oh Primus, Arcee would be there. Looks like he was going to see her a lot sooner than he thought.

His thoughts were cut off when someone grabbed him by the arm, causing him to yelp. "Thought you could escape, didn't you?" Ironhide huffed as he dragged Bumblebee down the hallway. "Think I still can't keep up with you lot? If I have to suffer, so do you, little prince."

"No, Hide," Bumblebee grunted as he struggled to regain his footing. "I was just rushing to my berth room to freshen up. Honest!"

"I'm sure you were," the older mech grunted.

Bumblebee ceased his struggling and resigned himself to his fate, dreading this evening already.


	10. Chapter 9

Arcee cherished memories. She liked to reflect back on the most important moments of her life. Her earliest memories were always in Megatron's presence. She was always with him, always in his arms or at his side. Whether they were traveling around ruined cities, or in the halls of Kaon, she was always with him.

Until that one night, when she had been a sparkling and was alone on the ship. She longed for Megatron and wanted him with her. But instead of calling out to him like a sparkling, she resolved to act like the big youngling she was and find him herself.

 _The halls were dark, lit only by the lights that glowed faintly to give off the illusion of nighttime. She liked the silence and the dark, though at the moment, she feared getting caught and being turned over to Megatron. That would ruin her whole point of being a big kid if she was personally escorted._

 _She looked up, recognizing the area she was in as the hallway leading to the berth rooms. Megatron's was bound to be in one of these. She scampered down the hall, her little pedes creating small echos around her. She peeked into the open berth room, finding it empty. Shrugging, she moved on to the next one which was also conveniently open. She peeked in, hearing movement in the dimly lit space. She stepped in, trying to keep quiet._

 _Her pede scuffed against the floor, causing the mech in the room to spin around, his optics wide in horror._

 _Arcee let out a startled gasp as she gazed at the mech before her. His face was heavily scarred and disfigured from old injuries that did not heal right. She could not make out his features and could not deduce if he had ever been handsome or not. But what startled her the most was the fact that his throat was a large, gaping wound that had never been treated properly._

 _The mech stumbled back, servos pressed up against the desk where a helmet she recognized rested. Her optics grew wider as she once more looked at the mech, noticing the pain in his optics as he stared down at the sparkling before him._

 _"Soundwave?" she asked timidly, scared at what she was seeing, rooted to the spot. She wanted to close her optics and never seen this ghastly sight again, but she knew such a thought was unfair. It was not his fault that he looked like this. "Wh-what happened?"_

 _Soundwave did not answer her, his body rigged. His servos slowly reached for the helmet, as if he was afraid to move._

 _"Does it hurt?" she asked, stepping forward and summoning her courage. This was Soundwave, Megatron's oldest friend. She should not be afraid of him._

 _He paused for a moment, glancing at her before slowly shaking his helm._

 _Summoning up the rest of her courage, she walked right up to him. She hesitantly reached for his servo, not wanting but forcing herself to look up at his hideously scarred face. "Can I kiss it better?"_

 _A choked gasp escaped from Soundwave and it took her a moment to realize that he was not choking, but chuckling. The sound startled her, but she stayed still, almost too afraid to move._

 _Soundwave sat down, pressing a servo to his damaged face, optics glancing upward. He probably thought she would have left him alone by now, or lost interest. But that was not Arcee._

 _She clambered up on his lap as she usually did, situating herself so she could look up into his clouded optics. "Does it hurt?" she asked._

 _He glanced down at her, his optics twinkling thoughtfully. He let out a choked sigh, standing up with her in his arms. With one free servo, he reached for his mask, placing it on and covering the damage and Arcee was immediately ashamed at how relieved she felt to see it back in place. She could only stare as he carried her out of his room, the silence heavy around them. She snuggled up to his chassis, feeling intense sorrow clench at her spark._

 _He somehow knew where her room was located, even though she had already forgotten where it was. But this was Soundwave; he knew everything about everything. He carefully set her in her berth, awkwardly placing the blanket over her before silently leaving the room._

 _Megatron would later wonder why he had overheard Arcee praying to Primus to heal Soundwave's 'ouchies.' When he had asked the masked mech about it, he received no clear answer. But unknown to everyone, Soundwave's spark was lifted somewhat and the pain became slightly more bearable._

"What do you think?" a sudden voice asked, crashing through her thoughts. Suddenly, she was not on the explorer ship of her memories, but back in the femmes room, staring off into distant memories to avoid painful thoughts.

She looked up, slightly annoyed. "What?"

Windy smiled, unfazed. "I was wondering if it would be alright with you."

Arcee blinked, not quite understanding. Had Windy been talking to her and she just hadn't been paying attention? If so, what should she say? "Uh, sure. I guess."

Windy beamed and Arcee had to wonder if she had just sealed her doom. "Great! Oh I'm so excited! You will look absolutely stunning!" She grabbed Arcee's servos and dragged her out of the room and down the halls to the fancy washroom.

"Windy," she started uneasily. "What exactly-?"

"Don't worry about it!" Windy chirped happily, practically bouncing as they burst into the washroom. "I've done Moonracer's paint job before."

Said femme looked up from buffing her armor, her optics wide. "You're letting Windy do your armor?" she asked in surprise.

Oh, so that's what this was about.

"Yes she is!" Windy exclaimed excitedly.

"Whatever possessed you to agree to that?" Firestar asked as she walked by. Moonracer shot the other femme a warning glare.

Arcee could not respond as she found herself shoved into a stall. "I've got it all figured out," Windy said, her optics sparking.

"Good luck," Moonracer mouthed to Arcee as she scurried out of the washroom. Arcee could only stare helplessly, her mood not lifting at all.

She submitted herself to Windy's makeover, closing her optics shut and not wanting to even look. She had many paint jobs done before, courtesy of a certain Decepticon medic who was thrilled with styling her up when she was younger, but she was not used to strangers doing her own paint job for her. But Windy seemed trustworthy and she looked like she had good intentions.

Good intentions or not, the paint job was horribly done and the bright, pink color was awful. Arcee could only stare at her reflection in growing horror, wanting to fall to her knees and scream, or moan at her situation. Anything to unleash this torrent of emotions. But Windy looked so pleased, so hopeful that Arcee did not have it in her to snap at the femme.

"Wow," was all she managed to choke out. Primus, she looked hideous. The paint was not applied right and it was way too bright of a color. She looked like a youngling! Shame filled her at once and she just wanted to be left alone. As soon as Windy was gone, she would try to fix up the paint. As much as she didn't want to hurt Windy's feelings, she did not want to show up looking like a fool and ruin the Decepticon reputation.

Her optics narrowed. Or maybe this was an Autobot scheme to hurt the Decepticons. But another look at Windy made her realize that she was jumping to conclusions. She needed to avoid doing that. Look at what happened to her and Bumblebee.

She pushed that thought away, not ready to deal with it.

Windy beamed. "I've been wanting to try out that paint color but it doesn't really go too well with my complexion. Then I saw your pink highlights and thought that you might like the color pink and I couldn't wait to ask you if I could style you up. And you looked so down that I wanted to cheer you up!"

She was rambling, and it was all Arcee could listen to at the moment. She resigned herself to her inevitable fate, hoping Windy would leave much sooner than it seemed.

The washroom door slid open and Arcee cringed, knowing that she looked less than stunning. But looking up, she wished that she could just melt into the floor and end her life.

Elita-One stood in the wash room, her optics wide, the only sign that she was startled. Other then that, her face remained expressionless as she looked Arcee up and down. "What an interesting choice," Elita said with a raised optics ridge. "Quite the change, don't you think?"

Windy nodded excitedly. "Yes ma'am. I wanted to help cheer Arcee up and-"

"Thanks, Windy," Arcee said quickly. She did not need Elita-One to hear about how negative she was feeling. "But I think you should get ready for the event."

Windy waved a servo. "I'm already ready. No worries."

"Windy," Elita-One said gently, yet there was a hidden authority in her tone. "I would like to be alone with Arcee for a moment, perhaps add my touch of style as well." Arcee flinched at that, a movement that Elita-One noticed but chose to not point out.

Windy nodded once more. "Of course, ma'am." With that, she practically skipped out of the wash room, leaving the two pink femmes alone.

Arcee wanted to snort. Elita's pink paint looked amazing and not at all like the mess Arcee was in. Elita sighed. "There is a right way to wear pink, and a wrong way." Arcee had to agree with that. The older femme gestured with her helm, signaling that Arcee should follow her. "Come with me. We'll see about getting this fixed up in time."

Arcee doubted that, but she followed Elita-One out of the washrooms, trying not to notice the stares she got at the few Cybertronians in the room. Elita's steps were not hurried, but brisk and elegant. Arcee had never before felt like the way she walked was wrong, but right now, she could not help but check her pace and posture.

They were inside Elite-One's and Optimus's chambers before long and Arcee felt like she could breath once she was behind closed doors, away from prying optics. Elita strode over to a large vanity, pulling out several canisters. She looked back at Arcee with a thoughtful frown. "Alright," she said, a hint of glee in her optics. "Let's get started."

Arcee did as she was told without saying anything, allowing Elita to remove the slowly, drying paint. Her servos were gentle, yet quick as she worked and Arcee was surprised that she liked the feeling of someone styling her up. Before long, her blue paint was back, though not all the pink was removed. She started to move when Elita's firm servo kept her in place. "We are not done," she said with a small smile.

Arcee frowned, but did not move as Elita opened several canisters before she began repainting. Arcee could not help the groan that escaped her mouth. "Pink again?"

Elita smiled. "What? You do not like the color?"

"My past experiance with pink has never been pleasant," Arcee replied. She paused. "Besides, Megatron did not like the...feminine color."

Elita huffed. "He's one to talk. Pink is a wonderful color and can be used to distract your enemies in the heat of battle. Your opponent would never expect such a dangerous fighter when colored in pink." She looked up with a sly grin. "It has worked for me."

Arcee had grown up hearing the stories up the famous Elita-One and her troops. They were dangerous and a thorn in Megatron's side during the war. Their fighting styles were different and many did not come back from the dangerous missions they were sent out to perform. But they made a name for themselves and were a force to be reckoned with. A part of Arcee wished she could have seen Elita-One in action.

"But then again," Elita said, picking up another canister. "Megatron needs a femme in his world to show him certain things in life that mechs cannot see on their own."

Arcee smiled sadly. "I fear that such an opportunity is long past for him." She had often wondered what it would have been like to have a mother. She was raised mostly by mechs and a few femme nurses, but they were never the motherly type.

"It is never past," Elita said softly. She looked up, her optics full of lost memories. "I often wondered about you; wondered if you would have needed a...maternal figure in your life. But I see that Megatron has done well with you." She smiled. "He has surprised me in many ways."

Arcee averted her optics. "It is who he is." Only she got to see the real Megatron and she wondered if Optimus and Elita knew the real Decepticon as well as she did. "Was he different back then?" she asked.

Elita briefly paused in her work. "He was a troubled mech, fighting on the side that was doomed to fail. But that did not stop him. He was a fighter, willing to win by any means necessary; doing so meant he would live to see another day."

Arcee nodded, her spark heavy. "Then not much has changed."

"He had his moments," Elita said. "You would see his compassionate side. Life was not kind to him. But I give him credit for trying to make a change. He surprised us all when he wanted peace when we thought such a thing was long past us." She sighed. "Mechs are such confusing creatures."

Arcee's mind flickered back to Bumblebee and their argument. "Yeah. As is life."

"Well, it's what makes life interesting," Elita said, gently lifting Arcee's arms up to apply some paint. "And it will help you learn. Take from the experience and apply it to the future."

"How did you adjust to it?" Arcee asked, craning her neck so Elita could apply some paint to the helm. "How did you...walk away from the war?"

"I didn't," Elita said. "I am in a different war, one that I had to adjust to. You either adjust, or rust. But...accepting it was not easy. Megatron hurt us, and I am sure we hurt him." She looked troubled. "We have yet to address those issues of the past. But we put that aside and focused on what needed to be done. We communicated, we negotiated and we did not fight. We came to realize that we had to put aside our anger and pride if we wanted what was most important to us." She stepped back with a satisfied nod. "Oh, much better."

It was then Arcee truly looked at herself. Gone was the terrible pink paint job Windy had done. Elita had scrapped all that away and replaced it with a dusted, faded pink color. Arcee's bright pink highlights on her helm and legs stood out in the light color, her blue optics shining like sapphires.

"Wow," Arcee said, examining her new look. She looked at Elita with true gratitude. "Thank you."

Elita smiled. "Well, I couldn't have my future daughter in law walk around looking like she fell into a tub of paint." She chuckled. "I do my own paint and style it, but Chromia doesn't like that sort of activity." She nodded approvingly. "It was a pleasure." She looked up with a frown, as if struck by a thought. "I believe we are fashionably late." She gestured for Arcee. "Let's go. We will make an entrance if need be."

* * *

Bumblebee did not know if he wanted to avoid or seek Arcee out. Guilt wormed its way into his spark once more and he felt ashamed for even hiding. He took in a deep breath, thinking over the two simple words. _I'm sorry._

Or should he make it three and say _I am sorry?_

"You seem really tense," Smokescreen said, making Bumblebee jump, startled. "You looking for someone?"

"Kinda," Bumblebee said, optics still shifting around the bustling room.

Smokescreen frowned, cocking his helm as he observed his friend's actions. "So is it a good someone or a bad someone? You're looking around in fear and your doorwings are twitching nervously."

Bumblebee glanced at his friend, grateful for the distraction. "You're very observant tonight," he commented.

Smokescreen shrugged. "You're not one to get so easily nervous. Face it Bee, you may be better in the political fields then me, but you still need to work on your poker face."

Bumblebee clapped the white mech's shoulders. "That's why I have you around."

Smokescreen chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. Bumblebee hoped that when the Selection was all over with that Smokescreen would remain by his side, either as a knight or a senator, though the position of knight seemed most likely. Roles and positions were promised to all those who were in the Selection, and Bumblebee had been thrilled when he found that his closest friends might still be with him even when the Selection had ended.

His optics landed on a small, light figure on the far side of the room. At first, he had thought it was Elita with a lighter paint job. But when the femme turned and he saw her optics, he realized he was wrong.

His spark stilled as he saw Arcee, her newly painted armor the color of a light cloud in front of the fading sun. Her blue optics seemed to stand out, the silver and dark pink accents in her armor shining as they caught the light.

"Woah," Smokescreen muttered, but Bumblebee was already making his way toward Arcee before he even realized that he was moving.

Arcee seemed to have noticed him, though her optics became suddenly very interested in the pillar she was leaning against. She looked so calm and poised. She was watchful, alluring.

He was standing in front of her, suddenly mute. All he would have said now faded away and he found himself staring.

She smiled hesitantly, though it was not a full smile. "Hey," she said softly.

Her voice brought him back to reality. "Listen, Arcee." He swallowed. "I'm...sorry-"

"Ah, Arcee," a certain voice said, making his way over to them and Bumblebee barely resisted the urge to bristle. "What a lovely finish," Starscream said as he looked Arcee up and down. "It is different and not something I would have expected." He then seemed to have noticed Bumblebee. "Oh, and who is this?"

Bumblebee scowled. Starscream knew full well who he was. Though he had never liked the seeker, he knew when someone was being subtly rude to him.

A guarded look seemed to have slipped over Arcee's face. "Starscream, this is a friend of mine, Bumblebee."

"A pleasure," Starscream said with a small nod which Bumblebee stiffly returned. "And how did you two meet?"

"Through friends," Arcee said simply.

Starscream nodded, though his optics narrowed slightly at the lack of information. "Starscream," Bumblebee said suddenly, catching the seekers attention. "How have you and Arcee come to be acquainted?"

"Our roles in the Decepticon life have allowed us to become close compatriots," the seeker said. "Though I must say that seeing you two together is a welcome surprise. It is very rare for Decepticons and Autobots to be conversing on such civil terms."

Oh no, they were not starting up that conversation again. "Then you should come by at the Hut sometime," Bumblebee said smoothly. "I am sure it will change your view on things." He tilted his helm. "But I would understand it if you were unable to make it. Life in the political circle can be very busy."

Starscream frowned. "Indeed it is."

Bumblebee hoped that Starscream would take that as his cue to leave. But the opposite happened as another Decepticon whom Bumblebee could not name joined in. Before long, there was a circle of senators around them, chatting and trying to earn some subtle favors from Bumblebee. Though not all of them knew who Bumblebee was, enough were already informed that he was the Heir.

He could feel his impatience starting to unravel as he tried to speak with Arcee, but the other guests made it almost impossible. Arcee herself seemed to be pressing herself against the wall, trying to make herself unseen.

Bumblebee did not even think as he grabbed her servo and led her away from the group. He took it as a good sign when she did not pull away from his hold. He turned to face her, looking into her optics. Though her averted his gaze, suddenly uncomfortable. "Arcee," he started. "What I was trying to say was…"

"I know," she said, interrupting him. "I'm sorry too." She hesitated. "I am not going to allow a petty disagreement ruin our friendship. It's not worth it."

Bumblebee's spark soared at those words. The fact that she valued their new friendship and felt as he did made this evening slightly more bearable. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he felt himself smiling.

Out of the corner of his optic, he saw Starscream approaching them once more. His optics narrowed slightly as he watched. Looking back at Arcee, he got an idea.

"Do you want to escape?" he asked, inclining his helm. At this moment, he was feeling bold and adventurous.

Arcee looked at him with a spark of curiosity. "To where?"

He took her servo, marveling how it seemed to fit into his own as he lead her out if the extravagante halls of the party. "I'll show you," he promised.


	11. Chapter 10

Arcee left the noise of the party behind and followed after Bumblebee. The air around them descended into comfortable silence as they walked down the empty halls. She looked up at the large windows they passed that gave off a view of the city that was still awake at night.

She was happy, a weight lifted from her spark ever since she had apologized. Elita-One had been right in a way. Arcee was not willing to sacrifice her friendship with Bumblebee just because of her pride and hurt. Whether Elita knew it or not, the older femme had given Arcee great advice for her situation.

"It's just up here," Bumblebee said, breaking through her thoughts with his voice. She looked up with a small smile, quickening her pace as she followed him up the stairs.

She frowned as she looked around when they appeared to be in an abandoned part of the building. The rooms they entered looked simple and not at all fancy or elegant. This was a part of the building she had not seen. She had to wonder why. Aside from its simplicity, there was nothing truly odd or special about it.

Bumblebee led her into a backroom and up a steep flight of stairs. He then reached up and pushed at a trapdoor, light flooding into the dark space. Arcee blinked her optics for a moment, feeling Bumblebee's servo gently leading her. She carefully watched her step as she crawled through the trapdoor. The view she saw nearly took her breath away as she gazed around in wonder.

It was like a small terrace, though she doubted the space was ever designed for that purpose. There was no railing anywhere, but the buildings before her and the setting sun provided an almost enlightening feeling. She felt as if she could break away and fly at any moment. A thought, by itself, dangerous but exhilarating.

So caught up in her thoughts that she had stayed rooted to the spot she stood in. Bumblebee carefully placed his servos around her waist, guiding her out of the trapdoor. He quickly removed his servos, and she noted how firm and strong they had been.

"You're...not afraid of heights...are you?" Bumblebee asked hesitantly, his voice soft as he fiddled with an object in his servos.

Arcee let out a breathless laugh. "Primus, no. I relish it in fact. There's just something about being so high up that makes it...exhilarating!"

Bumblebee's smile was one of relief. "One might think you were part seeker," he commented, sitting down near the edge, his feet dangling.

After a moment, Arcee sat down right next to him. After the suffocating atmosphere she had just escaped, the fresh and open air was a welcome change. "Do you come here often?" she asked.

He nodded. "Often enough when I need a place to go. I mean, some others know about it because I bring them up here. But I'm usually the one who comes up here most of the time."

Arcee hummed thoughtfully. "It's a wonder the Heir doesn't know about this."

Bumblebee huffed, rolling his optics. "Yeah well, it might do him some good to come up here every once in awhile."

Arcee turned to fully face him, interested. "You know the Heir?"

"Sometimes, I think I do, and sometimes I'm sure I don't," came the answer. "Life throws a curveball and there are many different choices."

She nodded, turning back to the view below. The busy transports below hummed with energy and light and she soon found herself lost in the view of normalcy.

"The sunsets must be amazing up here," she commented.

Bumblebee nodded. "They are, and I am certain the sunrises are just as amazing. Though I've never been up here to see a sunrise before. My berth is much more comfortable at that time of day."

Arcee laughed. "When I was a youngling, I would drive my guardian crazy with my early risings. He never liked it much and I often found myself...occupied with someone else." Those times were often spent with Soundwave taking her from a disgruntled Megatron. The masked mech would often take her to the med bay where he would work. It was there she would often ask him about his 'booboos' and if she could 'make it better.' One time, she had even tried to play with Laserbeak who had done his best to annoy her.

Megatron would get up early. It was what he had to do in the morning that left him in a foul mood. Soundwave was always there to watch her when Megatron could not. She glanced and saw Bumblebee still fiddling with that strange object in his servos. "What is that?" she asked, pointing.

He held up the keycard. "A gift from my guardian," he answered with a smile. "It's an important relic in our family and he passed down to me." The blue keycard seemed to glow in his servos as he showed her it. "Giving it to me," he started. "I guess it was his way to show me his trust and how proud he was of what I was doing. It's offered me courage."

Much like how she felt when she was with Megatron. His words, even when he was not aware of it, brought her courage. It reminded her that she had it easy compared to what he went through.

"You asked me why I am in the Selection," she said suddenly, finding the right moment to speak. "It never occurred to me why I was in it. I just knew that I was in it and accepted it as that. It was the way things were and that was how it was going to stay." She paused, resting her chin on her knees as she hugged them to her chest. "I have a friend. He carries scars. Terrible scars that have destroyed his face and future. There are others like him, others who are damaged because of war and strife. I...want to do my part to bring peace, whether it is carrying a gun or going through with this treaty."

The silence between them was broken, yet still heavy as she found herself flooded with emotion and meaning. "But I know that we cannot compromise who we are and our way of living. Without that, there is nothing to come home to."

She closed her optics. "I used to go to him, my friend, at night when I was a youngling. He never wanted me to see his scars, not wanting to scare me. He was never ashamed of them when others saw it. But that changed when I was around."

"Because he loved you," Bumblebee said. "He did not want you to see, and he wanted to spare you from the horrors of war. He was trying to protect you in the only way he could. It's what you do to protect the ones you love."

She knew how they felt toward her, she always had. Though she had never put that feeling to words before. It was odd to place the word 'love' with those who were labeled war criminals. "And you?" she asked, tilting her helm, coming a bit closer. "You are doing this for the ones you love as well?"

He shrugged, looking down. "It wasn't like that at first," he confessed. "Not for a long while. But, as I got older, my perspective changed." He looked up, catching her optics. "It's easier to do things out of acts of love, right?"

She smiled, his words sinking deep and ringing in her spark. "Yes, I guess it is."

* * *

"Well, this was unexpected," Optimus Prime commented.

Megatron just hummed in agreement, not saying anything else. The two mechs watched from the tall, nearby building, giving them a perfect view of the two Cybertronians sitting on the ledge.

Of course, such a feat would not have been possible without the right equipment for allowing them to see the two at such a distance. Without the equipment, they would not have been able to spot Bumblebee and Arcee so carefully hidden away on the ledge.

A twinge of unease tugged at Megatron's spark, and he frowned, leaning against the pillar that supported him. Yes, he was now facing the truth that she would be gone, in the life of a different mech. She would do her part to bring peace and it had been he who had put her in such a position. A part of him hated for creating such a treaty, but he would try to remind himself that it was for her, to bring her peace.

He never thought it would be so hard to give her away. He knew it would be hard, he just never thought it would feel like an open wound.

"Has she asked you yet?" Optimus asked quietly.

"If you mean about love and about making a spark bond work? No, she hasn't."

Optimus frowned, choosing not to say anything.

"Has yours?" Megatron asked.

"Countless times."

Megatron huffed.

"Should I send Elita?" Optimus asked. "Perhaps Arcee would be more open when speaking with another femme."

"Arcee has never had a role model to follow," Megatron said. "Not in that department. She never saw a successful spark bond. I could give her everything within my reach, but I could not give her that."

"It looks as if she is doing quite well though," Optimus commented. "She has grown."

"She is not the little femme who would go racing down the halls, screaming her helm off," Megatron said softly. "Not anymore." Images of her running across the large, empty halls, her peals of laughter reaching his audio receptors; it would make him smile. He loved her laugh and she would only feel relaxed enough to laugh when he and a select few were around. As she had grown, her laughter changed, grew and matured. And he loved it. But there were times when he missed the innocence of youngling laughter.

"I noticed," Optimus said.

"She is a femme who knows how to kill with expertise," Megatron said proudly. "She knows the weak points and where to shoot."

That made Optimus grow silent. The Prime tilted his helm with a small frown before he sighed. "I should have known your parenting skills would lead up to that."

"Barricade also taught her how to gamble before she held a sword."

Optimus shot him a look. "You are trying to pull me into a 'my ship is bigger then your ship' conversation. Aren't you?"

"I am warning you of who your son is bonding with," Megatron said simply.

Silence fell between them as they stared back at the building Bumblebee and Arcee were at. Below the two younger Cybertronians was the building the festivities was being held at. Optimus and Megatron were content with being away from it all, staying in the silence.

"Do you think this," Megatron started, nodding in the direction of the building Bumblebee and Arcee were at. "Will drive a wedge between them?"

Optimus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think that once they find out who they really are, distrust will grow between them?" he clarified.

Optimus tilted his helm back, thinking. "I think that, after they overcome their shock, that there will be questions. Many questions. Hopefully the friendship they have built is more important to them then anything else."

Megatron frowned. "Friendship?"

"I am not one to foolishly hope that anything but friendship has grown between them," Optimus said. "Maybe, with time, they can come to love one another as sparkmates. But romance built in such a situation; we would be so lucky for it to happen. I wish it wasn't so, but I know it would be near impossible for such a thing to take place. We are lucky they have clicked in such a way."

"You are supposed to be the dreamer out of the two of us, Prime," Megatron said.

"The dreams that I had were forced to face reality," he replied.

"Reality can be shaped by the hope you carry inside you," Megatron stated. "If you continue to carry it."

"Hope has taken many forms," Optimus answered. "In my case, it took the form of a certain yellow sparkling I found."

"Miracles, Prime," Megatron said softly. "Sentiment that I never dreamed I'd feel."

Nor had Optimus ever dreamed that he would be standing anywhere with Megatron, having a somewhat peaceful conversation. Nothing was the same, yet something was being built. Not mended, as too much had happened for anything to be returned to normal, to what they had. But something new was replacing the old. Of that much, he was sure of.

* * *

Arcee glanced back and he saw how torn she was. Her servos clenched, her pedes twitching while her optics shifted around.

"We don't have to go now, if you don't want to," he said, surprised at how soft his voice sounded. Maybe it was because he didn't want to disturb the silence. "The festivities will survive without us. No one will notice we're gone." At least, no one would notice Bumblebee was gone, as no one had labeled him the Heir.

Yet.

It suddenly occurred to him that he just might get in trouble for skipping out. Maybe he should have checked in with someone before he had dragged Arcee up here. Could he be getting her in trouble too?

She looked back at him with a small smile and in that instant, his doubts and worries ceased. "Thank you," she said, leaning back. "I know this is your secret base and-"

"Oh, it's not really," he said quickly. "Like I said, a few others know about this place. I'm just the one who visits it more often." He looked back at her, hating how his spark suddenly pulsed so differently. "You can come up here as many times as you'd like."

She ducked her helm. "Then you'll find me up here a lot. I just might kick you out."

He raised an optic ridge. "Oh really? There is plenty of room to share."

She chuckled, tilting her helm to where the pink shone in the fading light. In that moment, she glowed with a different aura around her.

"What?" she asked, and it was in that moment that he realized she had caught him starring.

"You look nice," he blurted out, face growing warm as the words came out before he knew that he was saying.

No, she looked more then nice. She looked stunning.

She seemed surprised, her optics blinking.

"You look like Elita," he said, ducking his helm.

"Because of the pink?" She scoffed. "Yeah, well, I'm going to change back to my normal color scheme once this is over with."

"It's a nice color on you," he said, finding his voice once again, daring to look back up at her, not knowing what he would see on her expression.

She tilted her helm, a warm light in her optics. He squirmed underneath her gaze. "What?" he asked quickly.

"Just wondering what color would look good on you too," she said simply.

He straightened up. "I'm thinking red."

"Oh Primus no," she moaned. "Red is way too popular now."

"Well then," he said with a smirk. "You'll be seeing me around very often, so you'll have plenty of time to decide what color suits me better than yellow."

Yellow seems to suit you just fine, she wanted to say. It was cheerful and bright, much like his personality. He was easy to spot and it was _his_ color. It belonged to him and seemed to speak out and define who he was.

She looked back out to the city, where there were no worries and no responsibilities, though down below, she knew she would have to return to that soon enough.

But not now. She wasn't ready.

"Can we stay up here?" she asked in a small voice. "Just for a little longer?"

In that instant, Bumblebee wanted to put his arm around her, but he held back. "Yes," he answered. As long as you'd like, came the silent yet unspoken truth.

* * *

He found him.

Or at least, he thought he had.

That was the tricky part; finding the Heir. He would need to become more sure in his answer before he took any action. But at least for now, he had a solid theory. But it wouldn't do him any good if he had the wrong one.

Not only that, but there were other potential candidates; others could just as well be the Autobot Heir.

Finding the Decepticon Heir was difficult, more so then finding the Autobot Heir. Despite preaching trust, Megatron was still silent when it came to the matter of his Heir whenever anyone questioned him. Smart, indeed, but it threw a wrench in everything.

Optimus easily showed affection and warmth to everyone, but if one knew what to look for, it was not too difficult to see who he truly cared for.

"What have you completed so far?" he asked, stepping into the dark room. He kept his optics open and alert, servo twitching and ready to draw his weapon if needed.

"I have completed much during your absence," came the voice. "Including a suitable way of containing our would be 'gusts'." A figure emerged from the shadows, purple optics bright, her long servos trailing across the med bay. "Have you found a patient for me to test it on?"

"Not yet," he replied.

She pouted. "Pity. But why am I not surprised? It is, after all, your answer all the time."

"I want to be sure the Autobot I have found is the Heir before we take drastic measures," he answered. "Everything has to be in place. Megatron is watching me and Optimus does not trust me. I think the young Prime suspects my...actions during the war."

"Yet Megatron has not revealed your treachery to Optimus," she said lightly.

"No, because it was part of the agreement," he snapped. "But how long will that last? Will Megatron grow suspicious and decided to turn me over?" He shook his helm. "I would rather not take that chance."

She huffed. "Well, I have done my part, it is time you do yours."

"I only need to find the Heir," he replied. "It is the Heir who has what I need."

"The Key to Vector Sigma," she said, the name sounding more like a weapon in her mouth then a relic of knowledge. She tilted her helm, dark armor glinting on her large form. "And you expect him to just hand it over to you?"

"He is a young mech who has been sheltered from war and strife, he will not hold out against you."

She grinned a sharp smile. "It is true, is it not? However, there are compelling cases that the Autobot Heir is not a mech at all, but rather a femme, and the Decepticon is a mech."

"I have prepared myself for that," he answered. "The choices are limiting. We will find the Heir." He looked upward. "This treaty was doomed to fail from the start."

A low growl emerged from the tunnels, a slow, steady sound. He frowned. "Have you seen to your beast?"

The femme smiled, striding forward, the dark consuming to where he could hear her voice. "He has grown very...needy. He needs daily visits from his Queen."

She vanished into the tunnels, silence falling for a brief moment. And then the screaming, the roar of rage began. A bright light filled the tunnels before the fire was extinguished. The mech waited patiently until the femme emerged once more.

"He has a strong spirit," she said with a smile, brushing at her servos.

"You'd best learn to control your beast, Antagony," he growled. "Before he influences the others. We have worked too hard to have him break free and catch someone's attention."

Antagony huffed. "He is under my control," she said, waving a servo as dark energy flooded the room from the tips of her fingers. "There is nothing he can do." She smiled as she curled her servo into a fist, snuffing out the energy. "Just as the Heirs will be under my control, as you had promised."

He nodded, fighting back the uneasiness. Working alongside a sorceress was never part of the plan. But Antagony, her pets and Dirge were a useful asset. "As I have promised," he repeated.


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: To answer Commander Prima's question, the characters at the end of the last chapter are all from the Transformers TV show and comics. I had to research them for this story and I am so lucky I stumbled upon them. Thank you readers so much for your reviews!**

 **I do not own Transformers.**

* * *

They were silent as they made their way back to the party, the bustling noise reaching her audio receptors. They had stayed up in Bumblebee's secret hideout for a good long while, just talking. It was relaxing just to be herself and speak freely with Bumblebee. She found that she could do that whenever she was around him. His presence was warm and welcoming, drawing her in. She could only wonder how someone could remain so optimistic in the midst of all this confusion and uncertainty. But it was something she wanted to be near, something she wanted to stay with.

These thoughts traveled with her as they walked down the empty halls, the sounds of their pede steps the only noise.

The sound of music could be heard, causing her to come to a stop. Bumblebee noticed and stopped as well, frowning at her in confusion. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She hesitated, shaking her helm. "It's...not really important," she started. She noticed Bumblebee's understanding and open optics and she found herself speaking. "There's music, which means there's dancing and I don't feel like dancing with...mechs I don't know."

Understanding dawned in Bumblebee's face, his optics twinkling as he smiled. "You might be surprised to find that I understand," he said, taking her servo and leading her in a different direction. "I'll show you a place where you can hide out, but still hear everything. After all, the music is really nice."

She was glad to follow him and away from the tiring night she would have been subjected to. The halls were lit with low lights, casting shadows around them. Bumblebee led her into an empty room, this time, the only light coming from the large, floor to ceiling windows. She could hear the sound of the music a lot more clearly, almost as if she was standing right outside the doorway to the party. It was unnerving, yet she trusted Bumblebee to lead her to a safe place to where they wouldn't be seen.

The thought of being caught did occur to her, yet she was not as bothered by it. There was nothing to hide. Not as before though, like when she and Bumblebee had been hiding on that shelf. That thought caused her face to grow warm for some reason. She remembered how his spark pulsed, almost reaching out to hers. The memory of his servos around her waist came back, like a phantom. She blinked her optics, trying to calm herself by taking in deep, steadying breaths.

"You okay?" Bumblebee asked, his voice pulling her back.

She stared at him, remembering where she was. "Yes, I am," she answered, wrapping her arms around herself in silent comfort, trying to keep her mind clear. She looked up. "How close are we to the ballroom?"

He grinned. "Actually, the reason we can hear everything so clearly is because of the way this place was built." He shrugged. "That's all I can tell you because I never really understood how it all works." He suddenly smiled. "So, you can't dance?"

"I can dance," she said quickly.

"So you don't like to dance," he said simply.

"No! I love dancing," she defended.

"You probably step on everyone's pedes," he continued with a playful smirk. "It's fine, I know plenty of bots with two left pedes. And there is no shame in running and hiding from a waltz-"

She cut him off by roughly grabbing his servos, pulling him forward and forcing him to hold her close. She then followed the beat to the music that she could clearly hear, dancing as she had been taught.

Bumblebee blinked, startled. But he hesitantly placed his servos on her waist, leading in the dance once he overcame his shock. "What happened to you not dancing?" he asked.

She tilted her helm up to meet his optics. "As I said before, I do dance and I love it. I just don't like dancing with mechs I don't know."

He raised an optic ridge. "So what does that make me?"

"You are no stranger," she said as Bumblebee gently twirled her around to the music. "I trust you."

"We've only known each other for a few months," he pointed out. But his tone was soft, holding no judgement.

"You are easy for me to connect with," she said after a moment of thinking. "Seeing you at the Hut, I wanted to get to know you. You were someone who...drew me in." She avoided his optics. "I'm glad I acted on that impulse."

"Me too," Bumblebee said, pulling her close. She let him, both of them dancing slowly to the music as the melody changed to a softer, slower tune. It was one that Arcee was familiar with, and it had been the ones she had always liked dancing to. Dancing with Bumblebee, she relaxed once more and she could feel the tension leave Bumblebee as well.

"Arcee," Bumblebee said hesitantly, as if uncertain what he should say. "I am...glad that I got the chance to know you. And I am glad you call me your friend. I would...hope that with you and me being a...Decepticon and Autobot, I hope that we can stay close."

Arcee found herself smiling softly. "Yes, Bumblebee. I would like that."

"Even when the Selection is over?"

Her smile faltered. "Yes, even when it is over." She tried to hide the worry laced in her voice, the sudden uncertainty that always plagued her. She would be leading Cybertron with her sparkmate. And what of Bumblebee? What of him and his sparkmate?

Bumblebee heard the uncertainty in her voice. "Hey," he said, tilting her chin up and forcing her to look into his optics. He was ready to listen, he was always willing to listen and offer his help. She could read all that in his expression.

Arcee just rested her helm near his spark chamber as they danced, wrapping her arms around him. "I don't want to talk about the Selection," she said.

Bumblebee paused. "Alright."

"Let's pretend," she said suddenly. "Let's pretend that we are just a normal mech and femme who happened to meet. There's no Selection, no treaty, no Autobots or Decepticons."

"Okay," Bumblebee said. There was no teasing in his tone, only understanding. He understood what she wanted, because it was the same thing he wanted. "If we were normal Cybertronians," he continued. "We would need certain professions."

"I never thought of that," she confessed.

"Well, what do you like?" he asked.

She frowned thoughtfully. "I like racing," she said. "And I like shooting."

"So a bounty hunter then," Bumblebee said and she could feel his nod. "Got it."

She giggled suddenly. "A bounty hunter. Fine. And you were the target I was sent to kill."

Bumblebee hummed. "Then I must be someone very important to attract the attention of a bounty hunter. So, I would be a politician? So what stops you from killing me?" He brightened up before she could say anything. "I got it! You realized that you could not kill me and rid Cybertron of someone as special as me!"

Arcee groaned. "That only happens in cliche romance stories. The assassin falls in love with the target and they are both on the run where, in some crazy plot twist, they defeat all of evil and live happily ever after."

"It's a classic," Bumblebee defended. "Anyway, so what you're saying is that we are on the run because you refused to kill me. Who wants me dead?"

"Starscream," she said easily.

"Aided by...Count Blur!" Bumblebee exclaimed. "So those two hire you to kill me, but their plan is thwarted because you were charmed by my amazing character, so you spare me and we run off together like a group of bandits."

"Robbing the rich to give to the poor," she said with a grin.

"I love that story!" Bumblebee said teasingly.

"Where Starscream and Count Blur hunt us down and mount our helms on pikes for all to see," she said with a smirk, looking up at Bumblebee's frozen expression.

He pouted. "Well, no one's going to read that story."

She shrugged, resting her helm back on his chassis as they slowly danced. "It's what would happen. The odds were against us anyway." The odds were always against her in real life.

"Yeah, but it's make believe," he said gently. "So, if we were on the run, what profession would you take for undercover?"

She paused, thinking deeply. "I would teach," she said softly. "I've always liked sparklings and would like to be around them. Teaching or nursing seems like...it seems promising." She looked up. "You?"

Bumblebee was silent for several moments. "I...honestly never put much thought in it," he confessed. "I love history and I love visiting the Hall of Records, but I'm not smart or patient enough to pursue the job of a clerk. Maybe a dock worker," he finished.

"But is that what you like to do as a living?" she persisted, hearing the uncertainty in his voice. Despite the fact that what they were talking about was all in their imagination, she did not want Bumblebee to settle for something he did not want to do. He was already doing something like that in real life, no way was she letting him do that in his fantasies.

"Um, no. Not really," he said. "I guess it's a good thing this whole Selection thing is here, or…" He trailed off, as if lost in thought.

She frowned. "What is it?"

"An explorer," he muttered. "A pilot." he looked down at her, optics certain. "I would be a pilot."

She couldn't help but smile. "A pilot then," she said. "So you have me, the teacher, and you the pilot."

"We hide out in simple homes," Bumblebee said. "Both of us doing our respective jobs."

"Not a care in the world as we do what we enjoy," she said.

"You working with the sparklings," he said. "Me, exploring the stars."

"You would have to stay in touch though," she pointed out. "Or else life in hiding would get lonely for me."

He laughed. "You'd have all those sparklings from your job to keep you busy."

"But you're my only true companion," she said.

"True," he said. "Your partner in crime."

Suddenly, she wanted that fantasy. She wanted it to be a reality. She wanted that life, that normal living. She wanted to be a Cybertronian, not a Selected. She wanted to live in a home with a job that she loved. And the strange thing was, she could see Bumblebee in that fantasy.

The warmth of his spark kept her anchored. She knew she should pull away, pull away from these dangerous thoughts and wistful thinking. But she had pulled away and hid from her imaginations for so long and here was Bumblebee, encouraging her on.

She made an effort to pull away, but she realized that she did not want to. The music was still going and they were still dancing.

"We shouldn't think like this," she said, not meaning to speak it out loud.

Guilt swarmed in Bumblebee's optics, a mirror of her own feelings. "I know," he said. "But...I can't help it." He looked away from her. "I'm sorry."

She found herself nodding. "Me too."

"It's nice," he said.

"Very." More so then she could say. It was a painful dream, something that would never happen. "I like it," she said.

Bumblebee smiled softly. "Me too."

They danced, neither one letting go, both lost in their own dreams and imaginations.

"You're a good dance partner," she said.

She heard Bumblebee chuckle. "I'm glad I'm dancing with you."

Those words; she was reading too much into those words. How was it that they had gone from fighting and back to being friends in a matter of hours? How was it that she felt this way, so confused and hopeful? It was like Bumblebee brought hope to her, like he dared her to dream and imagine with him. To imagine a different life with him.

So why was she seeing him in her fantasies? He was right there, entering through a doorway, or watching her work. Or she was watching him exit a ship, his optics bright from all that he had seen, eager to share with her what he had discovered.

Dangerous. This was a dangerous ground, dangerous thinking. She should stop, yet a part of her didn't want to. She should pull away, she should pull away and step out of his embrace right now.

She was in the process of doing so right then when she heard Bumblebee whisper to her. "I am glad we have this, Arcee. This friendship. Thank you for...everything."

She lost her strength and the battle at those words. She stayed in his arms, her optics closed tight as a battle raged inside of her. _Oh Bumblebee,_ she thought, ashamed and full of guilt. _Please don't. Don't encourage me. Don't let me fill you with false hope. Don't fill me with false hope._

But it felt nice. For in giving him hope, he was also giving her hope as well.


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: So sorry for the late update! Thank you all for the reviews though, it really means a lot to me. God Bless you all!**

* * *

Arcee strode toward the room, her steps swift and full of purpose. Her mind was set in what she wanted to do, what she needed to escape to. If she thought long and hard about it, she could buy herself some extra time in her activity and do what she wanted.

She wanted to read.

Her servo reached out, ready to pull open the door and step into the safety of the library. The building she and the Selected were staying at had many rooms and smaller libraries. This one was the closest to where she was at.

She had one pede in the doorway when a voice stopped her from moving any further.

"Megatron would like to see you."

She turned to look at the Decepticon trooper who did not even give her a second glance. She looked back at Ark who had been trailing by her side. She could not help but frown and look back at the library with longing, yet she knew she had to follow the trooper.

Her steps were brisk and sure as she followed the trooper. She ignored her surroundings, wondering what Megatron could possibly want to see her for. Also, why did he not contact her through the comm link?

She blinked, remembering and coming to the quick realization as to why he hadn't contacted her. Because she had shut down her comm link with the intent of getting some privacy.

Well, so much for that.

She sighed as she was lead to the rooms reserved for the Decepticon leader. Her shoulders were straight and stiff, the picture of an obedient Selected. Ark stayed behind as she entered the room, well aware that Arcee was well protected when in Megatron's presence.

She nodded, aware that she might not be alone in the room with the Decepticon, so she switched to formalities. "Lord Megatron," she greeted, standing before him in the large, dim room.

He turned his red optics to her, placing the datapad he had been looking at on the desk nearby. "Arcee," he said simply.

Not, 'Selected Arcee.' Just 'Arcee.'

It was then she knew she was alone with him and could drop the pretense.

She gradually relaxed and strode toward him with a small smile. "So, what caused you to bring me hear?" she asked as she stood before him, his imposing height towering over her, yet she showed no fear. While her shortness had once irked her when she was younger, she now accepted it as she could use her size to her advantage. But no matter how hard she trained, she could never best Megatron. Soundwave didn't even fight with her when training and she knew that if it came down to it, she could never beat the masked mech either.

Megatron gently stroked her cheek, his gaze lost in memory. "Can I not see you without reason?" he asked.

"Unfortunately not," she answered. "Not in these types of circumstances."

"Well, you were not answering your comm link and I wanted to inform you of the news personally before I announced it," he said, striding behind his desk and looking through the datapads neatly stacked in place.

She frowned, feeling a pit of unease grow. "What news?"

"We will be leaving for Kaon in a week," he answered simply. "The Autobot Selected will be joining us in the next month, maybe sooner depending on circumstances."

Her frown deepened as she took in this news. "So soon?" she asked. "Won't that raise some questions? And what do you mean 'depending on circumstances'?"

"Our abrupt exit will raise some questions, but Optimus and I have come to an agreement that it is the best course of action to move things along. As for the circumstances…" He glanced upward, as if debating on whether or not he should continue speaking on the matter. "The circumstances being that there is a rise in rebel activity," he answered. "There are some who do not want to see the treaty through. Certain assassinations have taken place."

She blinked, startled. "Assassinations?" she said sharply. She was so startled at what she had heard that she did not notice how casually Megatron had delivered the news. But that was normal for him, death did not surprise him or catch him unawares.

"Two Autobot Selected's were found dead three days ago," he said simply. "The news has not yet been delivered, but I wanted you to be aware of it when the news is made known. This is one of the many reasons why we are moving things along at a much faster pace."

Arcee looked at him sharply. "And what is the main reason?"

He just looked at her with a raised optic ridge.

She huffed in exasperation. "Oh stop it. You might as well tell me now. If not, I'll go bug Soundwave and you know how he gets when I disturb him."

A corner of Megatron's mouth twitched in amusement. "A former Decepticon is a suspect in the terrorist attacks," he answered after a moment of silence. "He and a...select group were last spotted moving north of Iacon. Optimus had sent scouts to intercept them, but all they came across was an abandoned base with equipment that could only be used for a Cortical Psychic Patch."

Her optics widened. "A Psychic Patch? But I thought Shockwave-"

"Was still working on it? He is," Megatron said. "But that does not mean that someone else is attempting to beat him to it."

Arcee leaned against the desk. "But what would they need such a device for?"

"Who can say?" Megatron responded.

Arcee narrowed her optics, aware that Megatron knew more than what he was letting on. But she was also aware that she was not supposed to known about any of this. He would reveal what he could and more if he was ready.

"What select group?" she asked instead, wondering if he was allowed to divulge such information with her.

"A select group that may or may not be on the inside of our Council," he answered.

She leaned forward. "Like who?"

"Like the ones who are being investigated," he said simply. "Like the ones who are unaware of who you really are."

She frowned. "So...not Starscream." She sighed. "Pity, I was hoping to blame him for something."

He grinned, optics alight in the dim room. "The peace of this land is still young. Do not despair."

She grinned back. "Never."

He leaned back in his seat, servos folded on his lap, an air of indifference. "How have you enjoyed your stay here so far?" he asked.

She blinked. "Are we really going from a heavy talking point to a casual conversation?"

He shrugged. "I have said all that I should have. You are to never breath a word of what you heard in here once you leave this room."

She nodded. "I know." She had learned to stay quiet and just watch and listen. After all, as she had learned from Soundwave; if Primus only gave you one mouth but two audio receptors, then you should listen more and talk less.

"Besides," he said. "I have not been able to speak with you so casually." He glanced towards the wall to an object she could not see. "And we only have so little time before you have to leave, else this visit might raise some unwanted questions."

She took a nearby seat across from him. Up until now, she had been too high strung and nervous to sit down what with the news Megatron had just given her.

"Well," she began. "I have enjoyed myself immensely. I have gotten to know a few Autobots and been subjected to all the gossip. I was forced to change my paint color so as not to hurt an overly sensitive femme companion."

He tilted his helm as he looked at her. "Just a companion? Not a friend?"

She smiled overly sweetly. "Worried that I'm having trouble making friends?"

"On the contrary," he said, leaning forward. "I fear you are making a lot of friends. The Autobot Selected femme Moonracer, the Autobot twins Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and the Autobot Selected Smokescreen and Bumblebee."

She shrugged casually. "Well, what else can I do but reach out to others to pass the time?"

"Anything that I would have you do," he responded.

"Which is qualified as dangerous to some," she commented.

He shrugged, waving a servo in the air. "It was no worse than what Orion and I did when we were thrust into the trials of war." His tone became wistful as he became lost in thought.

Arcee was aware that she had over extended her stay, so she silently rose from her seat before a thought occurred to her, causing her to pause for a brief moment.

Megatron noticed her hesitation and frowned. "What is it?"

She shook her helm. "It's nothing," she said quickly. "I'll speak with you about it later when we have time."

His optics widened slightly. "Oh, one of those questions." His voice lowered, which meant she was not meant to hear that 'Dang, Optimus was right,' comment.

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but decided to leave it for now. Just as she was leaving the room, she paused and glanced over her shoulder.

"Drift," she said.

"Nope," came Megatron's simple answer. "Too old."

She growled under her breath before leaving the room, ignoring Megatron's smirk at her frustration.

* * *

 _He dug at the rubble, reaching for the weapon he needed. At this point, he was on enemy territory and needed all the arsenal he could get if he was to make it back to Decepticon territory._

 _He winced at the large gash in his side. The explosion had taken a toll on his systems and it was a true miracle that he had survived. But transforming would be difficult on a number of reasons. One being that he would strain himself and might just collapse from the effort it would take to escape. Two, he would be easy to spot by Autobot snipers and they could easily shot him down._

 _He let out a growl of frustration as he flung a large beam out of the way, grasping for the weapon and pulling the large gun out. His red optics narrowed and his servos clenched harder when he saw that the gun would be useless as it was badly damaged. Trying to salvage it would be useless and a waste of valuable time._

 _He flung the gun away with an enraged yell, forgetting for the moment that he might be heard. He stood there, shaking with rage as he tried to formulate a plan._

 _A small, distressed sound caught his attention. It was so small that he might have thought he had never heard it. But he heard it once more, this time a bit louder._

 _He kneeled down and began moving the rubble once more, the mound of destruction no longer recognized as a building._

 _He stopped when he saw the body of a Cybertronian femme, her green armor ruined beyond repair. Her dim optics showed that she was no longer living, the weight of the building and the explosion killing her._

 _He was about to drop the debris he was holding and walk away when he heard the sound again, this time a pitiful wail. He leaned forward once more, wondering if the femme could still be alive. He reached in and grabbed her shoulders, only for her arms which had been previously curled around her chassis to uncurl and drop a bundle. That bundle let out another wail to which Megatron swiftly caught it, letting the body of the femme go in the process. He slowly laid the beam he had been holding down as he stared at the bundle that was no bigger than his servo._

 _He stared at the sparkling he was now holding, her blue and pink tinted body so small and fragile looking. Her tiny mouth was parted open, as if to wail once more, but she fell limp, as if the strength had suddenly left her._

 _His spark started to beat in panic as he wondered if this sparkling had joined the AllSpark with its carrier, but the blue light from her tiny chassis was still glowing, a sign of life._

 _He hummed as he regarded her. "Well, I cannot let this trip be all for nothing," he said. "Let us see if you are strong enough to brave the elements."_

 _He traveled towards his destination with the sparkling, the tiny femme still clinging to life. She accepted what energon he gave her, but she made no more sound and no effort to move._

 _It was not until he was sure that he was close enough to the Decepticon lines when he felt a tiny pull at his spark. He had frozen at the spot, his thoughts going back to what he had lost. Could he…? No! Optimus would never be so foolish as to try and reach through the broken bond that had tied them together as brothers. Besides, he had destroyed the bond beyond repair, there was no way either of them could reach out to the other even if they wanted to._

 _But this presence did not feel like Optimus. It felt small and weak, yet new. He scoffed. Of course it would be new to him as he had never felt this presence before. But it was also new to life itself, not just to Megatron._

 _He glanced at the sparkling, daring to wonder…_

 _As if sensing his puzzled thoughts, the sparkling opened her eyes to gaze up at him, her blue and violet rimmed optics meeting red._

 _And she latched onto him with such fierceness that it had taken him by surprise. But it was that action that would forever change his path._

* * *

Megatron opened his optics, ending the memory there. At first, he had no intention of saving a sparkling. He wasn't even sure if she would make it through the first day. She was in need of energon and if she decreased his chances of survival, then he would be rid of her.

But that never happened, she stayed silent and still, stirring only to take what energon he had to offer her.

And by the time he had staggered back onto Decepticon lines, he wanted her to pull through and survive. But more importantly, he wanted her to himself. He wanted her to live.

But it was really too bad that Starscream and Shockwave had to be the mechs who met him when he burst through to safety. Starscream had taken one look at the Autobot sparkling and was determined to kill her.

Megatron almost snapped his neck then. Shockwave had wisely stayed silent, which Megatron had come to learn was never a good sign when you were on the receiving end.

But despite all that, Megatron got what he wanted and he was determined to keep it that way.

Which was why when Dirge showed up, emerging from the shadows and threatening all that Megatron had worked for, the ex-Decepticon may as well have signed his death warrant.

Megatron slammed his fist on the desk at that thought, optics narrowed at the thought of that cursed Cybertronian.

But his thoughts took him elsewhere. Arcee had looked like she wanted to speak to him about a personal matter. He had to wonder if that personal matter had anything to do with a spark bond. If so, then Optimus Prime had been right when they last spoke. Of course Arcee would ask about a spark bond.

He sighed. Primus, he was not ready or even aware of how to deal with a conversation like that. Maybe he would have to take Optimus's advice and speak with Elita-One.

* * *

Bumblebee observed the neat shelf before him, his arms folded behind his back. He looked at the fragile pieces that were neatly and carefully placed on the display. The way they were set allowed whoever was sitting at the desk in the room a clear view of the glass flowers.

"This is new," Bumblebee commented, gesturing to a green and red glass flower. It was larger than the others, yet the glass was thinner, more fragile looking.

Red Alert looked up from her work, her helm tilted. She smiled when she saw what he was pointing at. "Yes, it is," she answered, looking back down at the datapads he had delivered to her.

He approached her desk, leaning in with a curious smile. "So that means there's a story behind it."

She hummed, not looking up. "Maybe."

He frowned at Red Alert's vagueness. "At least confirm to me that he is alive," he said, pouting a bit.

Red Alert paused in her work, optics flickering. Bumblebee could understand her hesitance, especially if the new glass flower was what Bumblebee thought it was.

That the Decepticon Red Alert had been in love with was still alive. If he was, then that meant he was sending Red Alert those glass flowers that were delicately handcrafted.

He could not keep the excitement out of his voice. "So, is he alive?" he asked.

"Yes," she said softly. "He is."

Bumblebee's spark soared at that news. "That's great!" he exclaimed happily.

She looked up at him with a small smile. "You might not think so if you knew who he was," she said.

He waved a servo. "Hey, Elita trusts you, you're her closest friend. I trust you and…" He paused for a moment. "I've seen how you talk about him, this Decepticon of yours." He smiled. "You deserve happiness after what you've been through during. You both do."

Her optics dimmed for a moment as she rose up from her chair, holding the datapads. "Some do not share your ideas on what he deserves," she said quietly.

Bumblebee frowned, watching her. It was times like this that he wondered who Red Alert's Decepticon lover was. With the peace treaty, all Decepticons and Autobots overlooked, or tried to, the crimes of war.

But the way Red Alert spoke, he had to wonder just what this Decepticon of hers had done. There were some acts of war that could not be so easily forgotten or forgiven. Had Red Alert's Decepticon committed such acts?

But then again, if this Decepticon could have Red Alert fall in love with him, then he couldn't be all bad. Right?

He remembered when he was a sparkling how often Elita or Chromia would take him to Red Alert's office for a visit. The three femmes had been so close with each other before the war and that friendship still remained. He wouldn't be surprised if they knew who Red Alert's love interest was.

He snapped his fingers suddenly, as if he had been lost in thought. "I'll bet it's Starscream," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Red Alert choked. "No," she said with a laugh. "Not even close."

He held up his servos. "Hey, no need to deny it," he said. "He's...quite a catch in his own way. I wish you all the best and I will do my best not to judge you on your poor choice."

"Bumblebee!" she exclaimed.

He winced. "Oh, did I say that last part out loud?" He hummed. "Okay, then not Starscream. What of…" He gasped, staring at her in mock horror. "Bonecrusher?"

She rolled her optics. "You silly youngling," she muttered.

He shook his helm. "Not a youngling. And you can't blame me for guessing."

"How about Megatron?" a sudden voice asked. Both Cybertronians looked up to see Elita-One stride into the room, a playful smile on her face. "You haven't guessed him yet, have you?"

Red Alert scowled at her friend, whacking her arm. "That's not even funny!" she hissed.

Bumblebee tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I can see it working."

Red Alert shook her helm. "That's it. You," she pointed at Bumblebee. "Out! I have work to do. Go on. Shoo!"

Bumblebee laughed as Red Alert chased him out of her office, calling out. "Can I listen at the door and see if I can divulge anything from you and Elita? Who knows, you two might slip up!"

"You better not!" Red Alert called out with a grin, shutting her office door and cutting off Elita's laughter.

Bumblebee grinned as he walked down the halls, content. Guessing about Red Alert's love life had bene a simple game to him, one that both he and the nurse enjoyed. Though he had never even come close to figuring out who her Decepticon mech was.

He spotted a familiar Cybertronian just up ahead and he quickened his pace to catch up. "Arcee!" he shouted, waving his servo.

The blue femme jumped at her name, looking up with wide optics. But she seemed to relax when she realized it was just him.

"Hey Bee," she said when he approached her. "You've been strangely absent."

He grinned. "Why? Did you miss me?"

She rolled her optics. "Sure I did. But your company is nicer then some."

They both fell into step as they walked down the halls and Bumblebee could see that they were headed towards a small library. "Catching up on some reading?" he asked simply.

She sighed. "I've been trying to. But I got called away. Not to mention I have a small window of opportunity to read before leaving to meet with the femmes." She slumped a bit. "It's kind of a requirement now that Windy has made me an official member of the group."

He frowned. "Will I still see you at the Hut tonight? There's to be another game of Territory."

She brightened up, her whole expression lighting like a star when he said that. "Of course I will! I wouldn't miss it." She gave him a sly look. "Though it won't help you if we're on separate teams."

He sighed. "Primus have mercy on my spark."

She nudged him playfully. "Oh come on. It wouldn't be that bad."

"Except for the no laughing rule," he grumbled. "What kind of a rule is that?"

She groaned. "Oh no, we are not getting back on that topic again."

He grinned. "But you love that topic of conversation!"

She laughed at his comment, causing him to smile. "See?" he said. "All I have to do is get you to laugh like that during the game and I win!"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Like I said before, the part with Red Alert and the glass flowers was an idea I borrowed from fanfiction author VampireQueenAkasha.**


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Once again, I am so sorry that it took so long for me to update! Life has become really busy for me.**

* * *

Bumblebee ducked behind the large boulder, his spark beating as he held the gun with ease in his servos. His optics narrowed in determination as he slowly counted to ten before peeking over the edge. He saw no one in the dark clearing, but he stayed alert regardless.

He did not trust his optics, so instead, he listened. Prowl had always told him to be wary even when he thought the cost was clear. Being watchful and alert has saved many lives before.

He stepped forward, his pede steps silent and cautious. He quickly dashed for cover, his senses on overdrive as he tensed up.

He ducked into a roll, blasters out as he heard someone approaching from the shadows. He tried to get a good look and see if the approaching figure was friend or foe. He didn't dare to call out, as it would be stupid of him to do so. The game was very much like regular training, and Bumblebee treated it as such.

A large Cybertronian who he was not familiar with emerged from the cover of darkness, his blue optics alert. Bumblebee could not tell if the mech was Autobot or Decepticon, but such a thing did not matter. What he needed to see was if the mech bore any blue or red markings of his team color.

The Cybertronian paused, as if aware that he was being watched and it was then Bumblebee had a visual on the red color that showed who his team was. But what was more was the fact that the mech carried the relic both teams were trying to retrieve and win.

So he was on the other team and he had the relic. Time for Bee to take him out. From beneath the rubble, Bumblebee cocked his gun and prepared to fire the paint.

Instinct suddenly screamed for him to duck out of the way, and he did just that. Abandoning the target, Bumblebee quickly rolled away just as a blaster of paint shot at where he had been, missing him by a few inches as the red paint covered a slab of metal.

Bumblebee leaped upward, shooting into the dark. He spotted a small figure ducking into the shadows and he gave chase, shooting whenever he thought he had a clear shot, though the Cybertronian was nimble and avoided his shots.

He lost sight of the figure, but he remained alert, well aware that the other team member could turn around and attack from behind.

"Bumblebee to scout leader," he said through the comm link in a hushed tone. "Team Red has the relic and are headed toward the scrapyard."

 _"Roger that Bee,"_ Smokescreen said. _"What is your position?"_

"I am in pursuit of a possible scout near the overgrowth," Bumblebee explained, treading cautiously. "I will contact you if I make it out alive." With that, he ended the transmission.

He only had a small warning before he ducked at the sound of a powering gun. He was ready to shoot as well, only to find that he had no more paint left inside. He let out a small curse, but could hear the distinct sound of an empty gun being fired, indicating that his attacker was having the same issues as well. Why hadn't he thought to bring one of those small paint guns as well? Next time, he would be sure to remember that.

He lunged forward after making a sharp turn, lashing out at his attacker. But the small figure let out a yelp as they jumped back, avoiding his attacks. In that sudden movement, Bumblebee got a clear look at his attacker.

"Arcee?" he gasped.

She gave a curt nod. "Bee."

He noticed the blue mark on her arm, with a dark slash across the color. He groaned. "You're the traitor."

She shrugged simply. "Nothing personal."

He frowned. "I am wounded that you take our friendship so lightly and would betray your comrades. You did not need to bring a gun to kill me as you have already stabbed my spark!"

Her mouth twitched upward. "That would do as well. Get's the job done."

"Why not just carve it out?"

Her fists clenched as she tried to control her expression at his dramatic cries. She leaped forward, her fists lashing out in quick movements. Bumblebee went on the defense as he tried to dodge her blows. He kicked the gun away, not knowing how else they were going to best each other in the game without paint.

But the fight soon became a dance, the fight between them nothing but a calm competition as neither one landed a harmful blow on the other. The light caught Arcee's optics as she turned sharply to deliver a punch to his chin, but he was only grazed slightly as he moved. But the sudden close proximity allowed him to see how her optics were narrowed in slight concentration, her mouth set in a firm line. When she lunged upward, her helm tilted back, giving her optics an almost narrowed, calm look.

Bumblebee regained his senses when a sharp kick to his right pede yanked him back into focus. He retaliated by using his size to his advantage and shoved forward, causing Arcee to stumble back and fall. His optics widened slightly as he saw that she was going to fall on the sharp rubble and he reached out and pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her waist. He twisted to the side, absorbing the brunt of the fall and he could feel her servos grip him as they landed.

His arms were still around Arcee and they just layed there, both with wide optics.

"You okay?" Arcee asked, her voice hushed.

He nodded slightly, wincing at the discomfort in his back. Arcee sounded fine, as she had landed on top of him. "Yeah, I think so."

He saw her raise an optic ridge in the dim light as she shifted around. "You think so?"

"Well, I'm alive and not seriously hurt, so I guess I'm okay," he answered.

"Good," she said. Suddenly, Bumblebee was faced with a small hand gun pointed at his helm.

He blinked as he stared at the paint gun, then back at Arcee who wore a triumphant look on her face. "Sneaky," he said with a disappointed huff.

She grinned. "One must take extreme measures to insure victory."

"By stabbing your companions in the back," he muttered.

"Or shooting them in the helm," she said simply.

"That's it," he said suddenly. "You're not allowed at my secret base anymore."

"Aw Bee," she cooed. "Did I hurt your feelings?"

He pouted. "Yep. And you are banned from the base and I will never be friends with you again. We are through, you backstabbing Con."

"Oh don't be so dramatic, whimpy Bot," she snipped back. "And anyway, you need me to save you from Count Blur and the wrathful Starscream," she teased. At this point, Bumblebee doubted she was really going to shoot him, as he could feel the tension leave her and her tone became more playful.

"Why? So that you can become the teacher and I the pilot? Hate to break it to you, but you need me alive to accomplish your dreams."

"Who says you're in my dreams?" she asked, and he could hear the slight change in her voice, but it was so small that he wondered if he was hearing things.

"Well I would hope so," he said, looking up at her and catching her optics. "You're in mine."

He immediately went silent when he said that, wishing he hadn't spoke those deep words. Yet at the same time, he was grateful that he had.

Arcee went silent, her right servo clenching where it rested over his spark chamber. How was it that she was so small, yet so strong? He was twice her size and yet she seemed so much stronger.

But now, she seemed frozen, as if torn between fight or flight and it was a look that unsettled him. Was he the reason for that? Was it what he said that caused her to look so worried and conflicted? He cursed himself for even saying those words, his spark thudding in panic.

He felt Arcee's warm touch as her servo unclenched from over his spark chamber. In response to her small touch, he felt his spark return to a normal, steady rhythm. He felt a warm embrace suddenly, as if his spark was trying to connect with a lost piece; a piece he hadn't know that he had been missing.

He suddenly wanted to stay there and keep holding her. It felt nice, like she fit there. It felt nice to hold her, to feel his spark almost reach out to hers. But that was ridiculous, as his spark couldn't be reaching out to hers. It shouldn't.

Yet a look into Arcee's optics showed that she felt the same, or at least, he thought she did. She was close to him, really close and she made no effort to move away or even break the connection.

Sudden sounds pulled him from his thoughts as both he had Arcee looked up at the sounds of approaching pede steps. Hidden behind the rubble, they were safe from prying optics, yet Bumblebee had a clear view from a small opening, allowing him to see two towering mechs a few steps away from their position.

He dared not move, save for tightening his hold on Arcee, the feeling of her in his arms bringing him comfort, yet a thrill of danger. It was not that he had anything to hide, but he knew that others wouldn't see it that way. Why was it that they always got stuck in situations like this? He would have to be more watchful, everything he did would be watched and judged.

He could feel Arcee grow tense as the voices of the two mechs drew nearer. He could feel the fear radiating from her, yet she did not move but only leaned into him, as if seeking comfort and safety.

The voices grew closer and Bumblebee felt a moment of panic. Surely the two mechs wouldn't look in the rubble? Shouldn't the game be over?

It was then that Bumblebee remembered that the announcer hadn't declared the winner, so the game was still on.

When the mechs were so close that Bumblebee could make out the red and gold color of the one mech's pedes, they drew away as their attention was called elsewhere. It was like a blessing from Primus, a blessing he had not asked for, but one he would gladly accept.

He let out a breath he did not know he had been holding. The tension all but left Arcee's body as she sagged into his arms, her helm resting beneath his chin. Her body started to shake and for a moment, he feared she was crying. His optics widened as his hold tightened around her. He quickly began to run comforting strokes down her back, just as he had seen Optimus do with Elita whenever she was stressed or upset.

But it took him a moment to realize that Arcee was not crying, but in fact, laughing. It was a silent, relieved laugh, but it was a laugh that shook her body.

"You're laughing," he pointed out with a smile. "Which means you're out of the game since you broke the 'no laughing' rule."

She smacked his arm playfully finally looking up at him. "I could still shoot you."

"Yeah, but do you want to?" he asked.

"Keep talking and we'll find out," she said. He felt her slowly rise up and he let his arms fall away as the sudden warmth and now familiar feeling in his spark drew away, but he dismissed the feeling, hoping it was a bundle of nerves from the game.

"That was...close," he stated as he sat up. He took the servo Arcee had to offer, rising to his full height as he towered over her.

For Arcee, the sudden, imposing height did not bother her. In fact, it was almost like a welcomed shelter that Bumblebee had to offer. He was not naturally imposing, but he could be should the need arise.

She nodded. "Really close. And it would have been awkward to explain."

He gave her a look as he rubbed at his spark chamber, as if troubled. "What would there be to explain?"

She hesitated, unsure how to answer. Suddenly, she felt tired and sank back down to the ground across from Bumblebee, resting her back against the rubble as the sharp metal poked at her back. But she could care less.

"I don't know," she muttered, closing her optics. What would everyone think when they found out she was a Selected? What of Bumblebee? Would he think back to this and use it against her? Somehow, looking at him, she knew it wasn't in his nature and doing such a thing to her would never cross his mind.

Unknown to her, Bumblebee was wondering the same thing about her. "You alright? You look really tired."

She cracked a smile. "I'm fine Bee. Just...weary I guess."

He snorted. "You sound so dignified. Like a mini female Prime."

She opened her optics to glance at him. "And you sometimes sound like a youngling. Primus have mercy on your mate when she meets you."

He chuckled, through his optics grew distant at her words. "Do you think...it will work out?" he asked. "I mean...what could happen?"

She shifted for a bit. "You will be introduced, given the time to get to know each other. Then you will be bonded and use your influence to help steer Cybertron and the Heirs to a better world."

He stared at her. "You're pretty insightful," he commented.

She shrugged. "I had to be. I did my homework and grew up knowing about the Selection. I didn't like the idea of going in unarmed and not knowing what I was walking into."

"I tried to avoid it," he said softly after a moment. "I guess I kind of...wished it would go away and take care of itself. Even though I always knew that would never be the case."

"Everyone deals with the Selection differently," she said thoughtfully. "Some ignore it, some drop out while some face it head on. The thing is, you are not entitled to stay." She missed the small wince Bumblebee hid.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Though I cannot help but wonder how...how it would turn out."

"You deserve someone who is like you, Bee," she said suddenly, a pain in her spark. "Some one bright and energetic and who is devoted. Someone who...has no faults and is as eager as you are. Someone who brightens up the room and your life."

He cocked his helm, optics thoughtful. "And who do you think you deserve, Arcee?"

The sudden image of a tall, stern mech came to mind. His face held authority as he guided Cybertron, his servos large and experienced, yet cold. His silver armor shone, the picture of perfection as the hard battle warrior took control of what he was brought up to do. His optics looked as if they were made out of cold stone, no mercy in his actions.

She swallowed at the image. Though what she was imagining was the perfect leader, protector and ruler for Cybertron, she knew in her spark it was not the mate she wanted or looked forward to meeting. She had often found herself comparing the mech in her head to Megatron; a stern leader who showed no mercy and who led his people with a firm rule.

"Someone who knows how to lead," she said, hugging her knees to her chassis. "A firm mech. Someone...who…" she broke off, unable to finish for reasons unknown.

"An equal partner," Bumblebee said suddenly, his voice firm as he caught her gaze. "Someone who is your life partner and...a friend. Someone who is strong, yet not overbearing to where you are always made to feel weak. Someone who is not kind but does not give you false hope with empty words and promises. Someone who knows what they are doing, but are willing to listen and heed sound advice." He grinned. "Someone you can always knock down a peg or two."

"A partner," she said softly, understanding his words.

He nodded. "A partner."

It was then Arcee came to a swift decision. If Bumblebee's mate did not treat him right and took him for granted in any way, then she would personally strangle that foolish femme and dump her body in the wastes of Kaon.

 _"Attention everyone!"_ the announcer said suddenly, causing Arcee and Bumblebee to jolt at the unexpected voice. _"Team Red is the winner!"_

Bumblebee shared a look with Arcee as something flashed between them. Then he grinned, his usual carefree attitude returning. "I feel cheated."

She chuckled as they both rose to their pedes. "Me too," she admitted as she stretched. "I didn't even get the chance to take down Team Blue."

Bumblebee shrugged as he spun on his pede, doorwings perked up in a cheerful mood. "Better luck next time Arcee. Oh, and your aim is getting really poor."

Something wet suddenly smacked him in the back of the helm and sent him stumbling forward. Regaining his balance, his servo reached up to touch the back of his helm and pull away to reveal red paint on them. He looked back at Arcee who was grinning smugly at him, the small handgun held casually in her servos. She looked like the perfect picture of ease, her optics twinkling with mischief.

She cocked her helm with her one free servo placed on her hip as she winked at him coyly. "Really? I think my aim is getting better."

It was then Bumblebee felt his knees grow weak at the smug smirk she sent him, though he refused to acknowledge why. Dangerous, was all he could think. Simply dangerous.

Yet, alluring.


	15. Chapter 14

Bumblebee hurried forward in the thin crowd of Cybertronians. He had lost sight of Arcee as she had been whisked away by that overprotective friend of hers. Honestly, he didn't know what Ark's deal was. It was almost like she could not let Arcee out of her sight. Maybe he should ask Arcee about that when they had time. He was sure there was an interesting story behind that.

"Hey Bee," Sunstreaker suddenly said, grabbing his attention. "Great game, huh?"

Bumblebee turned his gaze on the gold mech. "Uh, yeah. It was a great game. To bad for the loss though."

Sunny shrugged. "Eh, what can you do? It's a game. Though me and Sides here found something else very interesting while we were playing."

Bumblebee blinked as he suddenly found himself falling into step with Sunny, along with Sideswipe who had turned up out of nowhere. At that moment, he felt very cornered and trapped, as if the two mechs were closing in on him.

"You got a little something right there," Sides said, pointing at the back of Bumblebee's helm.

Bumblebee once more reached out to touch the drying paint where Arcee had shot him. "Oh, yeah. Someone from Team Red got me right when the game ended."

Sunny whistled. "Right when the game ended? A hit in the helm is a death shot."

Bumblebee winced. "Yeah, it felt like one for a moment."

"Better wash it off before it dries, or Arcee's mark on you will be permanent."

"Well, Arcee has been getting-" Bumblebee cut off abruptly, turning to stare at the gold twin. "Wait, how did you know Arcee shot me?"

Sides hummed. "So it was Arcee."

At that moment, feeling strangely cornered, Bumblebee muttered some apologies before scurrying over to where Moonracer was. How had the Twins known that Arcee had shot him? More importantly, what did they see and think of what they saw?

Then he remembered the two mechs that had been approaching their hiding spot. One mech was colored red and gold, the same color as...Sunny.

He wanted to smack himself for not seeing it sooner. He just hoped that the Twins would stay quiet about it. But based on what they had said, he could only wonder what they would do.

His steps slowed when he saw that Moonracer was occupied with someone else as she was engaged in a conversation with Mirage. Her gaze never left his and a light smile played on her lips. He caught sight of Mirage's servo lightly brushing up against Moonracers, and the femme's smile grew.

He turned away, looking instead for Smokescreen who was mercifully not too far away. The white mech caught his attention and beamed at him, waving Bumblebee over. He quickly scampered over to his friend before the Twins could snag him again.

* * *

The Twins watched as Bumblebee scurried away, both with identical, thoughtful expressions on their faces.

"We gonna help them?" Sunny asked with a smirk.

Sides grinned. "Of course we are. It'll give us something to do, and it'll be fun. The timing couldn't be better."

Sunny let out a sigh. "It's a shame really, this Selection. It's interfering with lives in more ways then some."

"Forbidden feelings," Sides said with a dramatic sigh. "Denial. A sense of duty. Yeah, it's a mess. But who are we to stand in the way of love? We must follow on in our duty to encourage them." He smirked. "Besides, we're all about interfering in others affairs."

"Pushing them together won't be too difficult," Sunny said, folding his arms. "The attraction is there and that is not something one can force."

"And what do they have to lose?" Sides pointed out, his excitement growing. "After all, it's not like Bee and Arcee are the Heirs."

* * *

Arcee still felt her face growing warm when she was in the femme's room. But she allowed her spark to calm down and return to a normal rhythm. She crossed her legs and adopted a relaxed pose as she leaned into her seat.

"So," she heard Windy ask. Her gaze lifted up to see the femme in a chair across from Arcee's seat. Arcee was aware that Windy hadn't gone to the Hut and had stayed with the other, more 'refined' femmes. It was just Arcee's luck to come into the room right when the conversation got onto a topic she had been trying to ignore.

Mechs.

"What's your type?" Windy asked.

The purple femme who had been questioned tilted her helm back, gathering her thoughts. It was then Arcee seized the sudden silence to debate on whether or not she could escape. Probably not, as the movement it would take for her to leave would be noted.

As the purple femme answered Windy's questions, squeals rang out in the room at what was said, causing Arcee to wince. It was then she noticed Firestar enter the room, her regal posture straight and stiff. Her steps were measured as she sat down with ease, her optics scanning the room.

"And where have you been?" Windy asked, turning to Firestar with a raised optic ridge.

Firestar met the other femme's stare with a calmness that Arcee envied. Yes, she could see where some would think that Firestar was the Autobot Heir instead. If that was so, she wondered who they thought the Decepticon Heir was. It was too risky for her to ask that question now, but maybe she could ask Bumblebee.

The thought of Bumblebee caused her spark to pick up speed once more and she cursed herself for entertaining such fantasies. How could she have let herself get so careless? This was a new feeling that she had never experienced before. Sure, she had developed crushes and what she thought was love in her youth, but it had never felt this strongly before. Asking Megatron was out of the question as the last time she had asked him about feelings, he had quickly closed off.

The life of a bachelor tended to cause him to act that way, she supposed.

"Arcee?" she heard Windy ask. "You seem lost in thought. So what's your type?"

Arcee jerked forward, snapping out of her thoughts. She blinked twice as she took in the expectant faces before her.

It took a few seconds for Windy's question to sink in, and when it did, Arcee's horror grew. That was not the question she wanted to be asked! Nor was it the question she wanted to answer.

She took in a deep breath. "I...don't have a type," she answered finally.

Firestar let out an undignified snort. "Really? That sounds similar to your answer the last time."

Arcee bristled at the tone in the other femme's voice, but she held her words back.

Windy frowned, disappointed. "So...you don't have a type?"

 _"I want them to be safe. That's why I am in the Selection."_

His voice had been calm, yet heavy with regret of what he could never have as he looked at that family. But his stance had been firm as he was filled with determination to do his part. Whether that would require for him to wield a gun or attend peace treaties, he would do it. He was willing.

Imagine what he would do for his mate, if he was willing to do all that for his planet.

She felt her emotions growing to a boiling point, partially because of Firestar's attitude and mostly because of what she yearned to say.

"He must be strong," she found herself saying, almost in a daze. But her voice grew firmer with each word she said. "He has to be loyal and not afraid to do what needs to be done. He must be a protector and provider. He has to be warm and carrying, not hiding his true emotions and always open to share. His strength is in his words as well as in his actions."

She didn't pause as her words tumbled out, yet she was filled with certainty. She soon found herself identifying her words to one mech, one mech alone. "He puts others first, yet he always brightens up the room with his personality and mannerisms. He carries the world on his shoulders silently, yet he is always offering advice and he is willing to heed the wisdom of his elders." She let out a shaky breath. "He...cares for his loved ones and would do anything for them. His affection is...strong and warm."

She looked down briefly, her servos clenching. "He is a partner in life and expects others for their faults, but expects them to learn from their mistakes as he does. Patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness; those are all the traits he possess."

She refrained from saying anything else, like how there was kindness in his optics and a gentleness in his touch. She did not say how secure his arms felt when they had been around her, like he would never let her go. She did not say how sincere his smile was when he watched a family walk by or how he talked about being a pilot with her as the assassin and how she could easily see him in her fantasy future.

Firestar frowned. "So, you are expecting some sort of saint."

Arcee glared, focusing her sight on the other femme with such intensity. "No," she said firmly. "I am expecting someone I deserve to live with. Someone I know who I deserve." She then calmly rose from her seat, ending her statement as she strode from the room.

Did she go a bit overboard? Probably. Was she reading too much into what she was feeling. Yes, most certainly.

She stifled a sigh that was threatening to come forth. She needed help and she needed it now. Wrapping her arms around herself, she looked up and noticed that her steps were taking her nowhere in particular.

She frowned, wondering if she should seek out Megatron. She wasn't sure if he was the right mech to talk to on this particular subject. But who else did she have to turn to?

She glanced over at Ark who was following closely behind. "Ark," she started. "What do you know about…?"

Ark tilted her helm as she looked at Arcee. "What do I know about what?"

She shook her helm. "Never mind." She quickened her steps as she strode forward with one destination in mind.

* * *

Megatron had a feeling that it would come up some time. He just didn't have time to prepare himself. He looked up as Arcee poked her helm in, her blue optics holding so much questions and a need for answers.

He sighed and inclined his helm, giving her the signal that it was safe enough for her to speak to him.

"Trouble?" he asked, folding his servos.

She shifted in her seat before going still, adopting a more casual pose that he had taught her. Yet the stiffness in her shoulders suggested that she felt anything but casual.

He tilted his helm. "Is it those darn emotions?"

She glanced at him, meeting his optics. "Yes," she answered. "I am feeling an array of troubled thoughts and feelings that I should not have. Emotions that may compromise the Selection."

He stayed silent, unsure how he should answer this. Should he even say anything? On the one hand, he was proud that she realized that the feelings she was having weren't right. But she was growing close with the Autobot Heir, something neither he or Optimus Prime ever thought could happen. On the other hand, he didn't want to drive her away from the Heir that she was unknowingly developing feelings for.

"Well," he said simply. "We will be returning to Kaon soon, so you will have time to distance yourself from the situation."

"And I will only have so little time before the situation itself comes knocking on my doorstep," she replied.

"Use the time to sort out what you are feeling," Megatron said, choosing his words carefully. "Examine them and use the time to...take care of yourself. Do the things you normally do in Kaon." Primus, he needed to have Elita-One deal with this. He wasn't even sure if what he was saying was right.

"You are not Shockwave," he said suddenly. "You cannot just cut off your emotions and become void of feelings. It won't work that way."

"Maybe it would be for the best."

He blinked, not expecting such an answer. He narrowed his optics as he looked at Arcee. He could tell she was considering Shockwave's tactic as an answer, though it was another question entirely if she would carry through with it.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, leaning forward.

"It would be in Cybertrons best interest," she said simply, her gaze on the desk between them.

"But what of your mate?" he pressed.

"What does it matter? He does not know me, nor has he even tried to seek me out," she said, bitterness in her tone.

"Yet you repeatedly battle with Soundwave over the hidden records that you still believe exist," he mused. "You have hopes of finding out who the Autobot Heir is."

Her optics twinkled at his tone and the corners of her mouth twitched. He found himself watching her, trying to read her emotions.

He came to one possible solution. She was filled with guilt and shame over what she was feeling and he would not allow Arcee to tear herself apart over this. "I want you to spend some time away from the other Selecteds," he said firmly. "Be it Autobot or Decepticons. You can go and travel the city until we return to Kaon. You can change your paint job, spar, race, do whatever. But stay away from the Selecteds."

She looked at him in surprise, her body going limp in the seat. "I…" she stuttered, not sure what to say. "Why?"

"You can start by thanking me," he said, looking down at his datapads. "And you can take my advice and use it to relax and do whatever you like. Though Ark must be with you at all times." He looked back up at her. "Am I clear?"

She nodded, standing up. "Yes, we are clear."

He watched her. "Good." He nodded to the door. "Now get some sleep, you had quite an eventful day."

She grinned tiredly. "Yes sir," she said. She looked back at him once more from the doorway, the shadows of her small frame casting a mysterious light. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he muttered to the empty room, feeling his spark grow heavy. He waited a few minutes as the silence stretched on before reaching for the comm link.

"Optimus Prime," he greeted stiffly. "I require your mate's expertise on...feelings. Especially one involving young femmes." He scowled. "Of course I am aware that such topics are not my strongest forte. Is Elita-One available or not?"

The answer he got caused him to relax in his seat. "Good," he said. "Then this situation couldn't have turned out any better."

* * *

He watched as the witch danced around in delight, her sudden shrieks of happiness filling the caves.

"I found them!" he heard her scream in delight, the sound grating his audio receptors. "I found them!"

The 'them' was something he did not care to know about. All he knew was that those poor souls were the witch's targets now, just as he and his brothers once were.

He unfurled his wings before settling down into a more comfortable position. He rested his large helm as his golden optics lazily examined the dark room he was in.

The Wild One of the Sky looked up, his blue armor the only light in the darkness. "She has found a new pet," he grunted.

The Dark One only growled, the spikes on his helm glittering. "Pitty, they will have such a miserable existence once she gets her claws on them."

The tired debate went on between the two siblings, but they did not invite the bigger, more observant creature in on the conversation. They only acknowledge his presence when he demanded it and they were quick to respond when he did. He had struck fear into their sparks long ago from the first moment they had been thrown into the Pit.

The Pit had been their earliest memories, and the larger creature had been waiting for them. He quickly put them in their place, reminding them who was in charge and what would happen should they rebel. Experience and cunning had earned him their reluctant respect.

He had made it quite clear who was the leader. He had shown them who they answered to.

He was their king. He was known to them as King.

King listened to their idle chatter with boring interest. He did not know what the witch had planned, but he pitied those creatures who she hunted. He pitied them, for the lives they knew now would come to an end.


	16. Chapter 15

"Hey Bee!" a sudden voice shouted.

Bumblebee did not look up. He didn't even acknowledge the Cybertronian who was calling his name. Instead, he picked up his pace, doing his best not to break out into a jog that would give away his anxiety. He resisted the urge to look back, keeping his optics focused instead on the ground as he turned a sharp corner.

"Bumblebee, wait!" Sunstreaker shouted and Bumblebee could hear the mech's frantic steps. "Hold up! I need to talk to you!"

Oh, Bumblebee bet he did. But he had no intentions of inviting any unwanted questions with the Twins. No, it was best to avoid the Twins for the time being. Maybe forever. He could change his paint color and move to a different city until the Selection was over. Maybe Ironhide could help him out. In fact, he was sure the older mech would enjoy it.

Bumblebee ducked into a different hallway before scurrying over to the other side of the room. He shoved the two study doors open and barged in, hoping Sunstreaker didn't see him ducking into the room. He glanced back but saw no one following him in the comfortable, inviting space that was filled with computers and chairs. He allowed himself to breath a sigh of relief as he relaxed, only to turn and freeze in his tracks.

"Bumblebee!" Sideswipe said cheerfully, rising from his seat from one of the study desks. "Fancy seeing you here. But since I've run into you, there is something I wanted to talk to you about."

Bumblebee spun on his heel, not caring if he looked rude, only for him to stumble back as Sunstreaker burst into the room, breathing deeply.

"You…" he gasped, pointing at Bumblebee as he leaned against the wall for support. "Are a...fast walker!" He took in another deep breath before straightening up with a wide smile. "One would think you were trying to avoid me!"

Bumblebee blinked, startled. "How…?" he stuttered, looking at both the Twins. "How did you know I was here?" he asked, pointing at Sunstreaker.

Sunny tapped his chest, grinning. "Twin bond," he reminded, nodding toward Sides.

"Since you are here," Sides said, wrapping an arm around Bumblebee and preventing him from leaving. "We might as well catch up."

Bumblebee tried to pull away. "Um, I kind of have somewhere to be-"

"Nonsense!" Sunny exclaimed, joining his brother in trapping Bumblebee. "We never get to spend some one on one time with you, our bright and yellow friend!"

"What should we catch up on?" Sides mused out loud. "Racing? Sports?" He winked at Bumblebee. "Femmes?"

Bumblebee's optics widened as he tried to wrench himself away from the two intrusive mechs. He was successful as he stumbled back, putting some distance between himself and the brothers.

He cleared his throat, trying not to look cornered as he tried to put up a calm facade. "Why? What type of femmes have caught your optics?"

Sunny chuckled while Sides grinned. "Well," the golden Twin started. "We are single at the moment and aren't interested in pursuing any serious relationship with any of the femmes yet. But," he trailed off, looking at his red brother.

"We have noticed someone else needs our help in that line of department," Sides continued, smiling innocently.

Bumblebee knew where this was going, and he was putting a stop to it before he regretted any of the outcomes. "You two do know that I am in the Selection, right? And that my mate has already been chosen for me?"

Sunny waved a dismissive servo. "Aw, come on. That Selection needs to be...bent a little."

"There are rules!" Bumblebee exclaimed, shocked. "Rules set by the Prime himself!"

"Eh, rules are made to be broken," Sides said with a bored huff.

"Especially by us," Sunny said, his grin never leaving his face.

"I am bound by duty," Bumblebee reminded them both, frowning.

"To who?" Sunny said, cocking his helm. "Who are you compelled to obey?"

Bumblebee stuttered in shock. They couldn't seriously be asking him that! Could they? "Optimus Prime, of course," he answered.

"Did Optimus ask you for such loyalty?" Sides asked.

"He didn't ask for it," Bumblebee responded swiftly, his frown deepening. "He earned it."

"But what about you?" Sunny asked. "What do you think you've earned through this? What do you deserve?"

"Peace," came Bumblebee's swift response. "Peace for others as I play my part and fulfill my duty."

"But what of your duty to yourself?" Sunny pointed out. "Or the duty to the one femme who is destined to be yours? To the one femme who has feelings for you and is destined to be your mate?"

Bumblebee froze. He narrowed his optics. "Nothing worth doing is ever easy or simple," he answered.

"Be reasonable, Bee," Sunny said. "Do you really think that your one sacrifice will make a difference in a peace treaty that the two Heirs are supposed to fulfill? Everyone else in the Selection could drop out, but it all depends on the Autobot and Decepticon Heir. So you're in the clear."

Bumblebee closed his optics as he winced. No, he was not in the clear, despite what others may think. "There are...things in the Selection that outsiders have not been briefed on," he started, opening his optics and looking away. "Things that I am not allowed to explain."

He heard nothing but silence before the light pede steps of Sides approached him. "Are you saying that there are...other rules we aren't aware of?" Sides asked.

Bumblebee shrugged, still not meeting the other mech's gaze. "Something like that."

"So those rules are preventing you from pursuing your feelings?" he asked.

"Yeah," Bumblebee said, his voice choking. "So just drop it, okay?" With that, he pushed past Sideswipe with the intent of leaving.

"So you do have feelings for her," he heard Sunstreaker say.

Bumblebee froze, slowly turning to look at the gold mech. "What?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"You just admitted that there is something preventing you from pursuing the object of your affections," Sunny said, sauntering over. "But let me be honest with you," he said. "The only thing preventing you from pursuing that femme of yours is yourself. And let me ask you this," he said with a glare. "Are all the sacrifices that you are willing to make really worth the happiness you could have with this...nameless femme that we are not supposed to know about?"

Bumblebee was no fool. He knew that the Twins were well aware of who they were talking about, and it was that little bit of knowledge that concerned him.

"Is it really worth hurting yourself?" Sunny continued. "And if you won't do it for yourself, then what of the femme? Has it ever occurred to you how your rejection could be hurting her as well?"

"She's probably struggling with her feelings right now," Sides said with a nod. "Wondering if she's doing something wrong and committing some great sin."

Bumblebee didn't have the strength to pull away from the two mechs as he felt his spark drop. "But...what if what I feel is nothing more than just a...just a fling?" He had seen mechs and femmes drop out of the Selection because they thought they had found love, only for it to fizzle out and end in failure. Some tried to make it work, to force the love to remain, and it was those relationships that seemed to be the most troubled and full of strife. If there was no love to begin with, then it was all a lie.

He did not want that for Arcee. He did not want to rob her of a future that she would be provided with. And how did he even know for sure that she felt the same?

How did he even know for sure what he was feeling?

"Let's start with the basics," he heard Sunny saying. In a matter of moments, Bumblebee found himself being shoved into a chair with Sides in front of him and Sunstreaker sitting right next to Bee.

"Do you imagine a life with her?" Sides asked.

If it was possible for Bumblebee to remain frozen, then he would be an icecube. There was no way he was telling the Twins about his fantasies about the pilot and assassin turned teacher.

"Does your spark feel as if it is going to pulse out of your chassis?" Sunny asked, leaning in, causing Bumblebee to inch away in his seat.

"Have you experienced any urges to do impulsive things?" Sides asked, tilting his helm. "Such as death defying feats that you know would get her attention? Have you been acting stupid just to make her smile? How do you feel when she laughs?"

Bumblebee blinked at the other twin. Strangely yet, he felt like he was being interrogated for a crime he was not aware of.

"Do you enjoy her company?" Sunny asked.

"Of course!" Bumblebee exclaimed with a glare at the gold mech.

"Does she fill your thoughts and dreams?" Sunny asked, his voice low. "Does she fill your every waking moment to where you cannot bare the thought of ever being apart from her? Would you cut off your arm for her?"

Bumblebee choked.

"Or better yet," Sides said, leaning in. "Would you handcuff yourself to her so that you won't ever spend a moment apart?"

"More importantly," Sunny said, continuing to lean in and causing Bumblebee to lean even further away. "Have you kissed her?"

"What?" Bumblebee yelped, falling out of his seat.

"Aw!" Sunny exclaimed, pulling back with a wide smile. "Sides, it looks like we are dealing with a crush."

"That's all that it is," Bumblebee said, scrambling to his pedes while calming his racing spark. "A crush," he muttered. "It will fade over time, but it is not worth throwing everything away."

"How can you be so sure that it is _just_ a crush?" Sunstreaker demanded. "What if it could be turned into more? After all, if you weren't attracted to her, then there would be no crush. Relationships start off with feeling an attraction. If you aren't attracted to someone, then what's the point?"

"If it is what you say it is," Bumblebee started. "Then I can...put a stop to what I am feeling before it gets out of control."

"Is what you are feeling so bad that you must ignore it?" Sideswipe demanded. "What is holding you back?"

"My oath," Bumblebee said, turning his attention to the other twin. He stayed firm, feeling as if he was dangling from a cliff that was about to let go of him should he lose his focus.

"To who? To Optimus?" Sideswipe asked. "Need I remind you that it was the same Prime who also stated that those in the Selection can leave whenever they wanted to? And it is not like you are loosing anything in stepping out. Sunny and I did our homework and it is common knowledge that those in the Selection will be provided for, even if they step out."

"I told you," Bumblebee gritted out. "There are...things that you won't understand."

Sideswipe leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs. "Try us. Is it your own personal feelings?"

Bumblebee shook his helm helplessly. "No...I don't know." He did not know why he wasn't leaving, why he wasn't escaping. He knew he should, knew that he should leave. But his pedes stayed rooted to the floor.

"Is it because she is a Decepticon?" Sideswipe demanded. "Is it because of her faction?"

"No," Bumblebee said, his voice low as he clenched his servos. He shouldn't speak, shouldn't add fuel to the fire that was consuming him.

"Is it because she would prefer to be in the training room, shooting at targets instead of sitting in the femmes room like a proper noble femme?" Sides continued.

No, quite the opposite in fact. Her very inner fire, her sure aim and quick wit was what drew him in, what caught his attention. She was so at ease in what she did, completely immersed in her element. It was who she was, and it allowed him to get a glimpse of what she enjoyed.

"Is it because you finally noticed her when she stepped out in that pink paint color?" Sides demanded.

He had never been more drawn to her then in that moment. The light, dusted pink color had given her a delicate, elegant look. Yet the fierceness in her optics and the way she carried herself spoke of dangerous experience. So much like the assassin in their fantasies.

She had felt light in his arms when they had danced, and he had been content with just staying like that. He hadn't wanted the moment to end, despite the fact that he knew what he was doing was a betrayal to Optimus Prime and Cybertron.

He also knew that deep down, he could be leading Arcee on in a lie and cost her everything.

Even now, she was in danger of being discovered and ruined because of him.

His servos shook. "Please," he said, looking at the two mechs who were staring at him. "Please, report me to Optimus Prime if you must, but leave her out of this. Don't drag her in because of...because of me. Don't ruin her." He would fight and defend her, take all the blame if only she could escape untouched. He never wanted to make Optimus disappointed, but the thought of ruining Arcee's life was even worse.

Something flickered in the Twins optics as Sunstreaker cocked his helm to look at his brother. Sideswipe shifted in his seat, looking down at his lap.

Bumblebee felt his spark beat a bit faster as the dread grew. Already, he was seeing worst case scenarios and how Arcee would be affected. Would they remove her from the Selection and cast her out because of him?

"Bee," he heard Sunny say, the mech's voice pulling him from his troubled and frantic thoughts.

"We have no intentions of compromising you or Arcee," Sunstreaker said. "And frankly, I am offended that you would think we would ever stoop so low."

"But we will take action," Sideswipe said, standing up.

Bumblebee went still as the moment of relief he had been feeling came crashing down like a felled seeker. "Action?" he said, his voice wavering.

"We are going to help you along in the road to romance!" Sunstreaker exclaimed, leaping from the seat and clapping Bumblebee on the shoulder.

"And we will help you recognize the feelings you are going through," Sideswipe said.

"What?" Bumblebee demanded, stumbling back. "I don't need your...I don't even want your help!"

"Ah," Sunstreaker sighed. "He is in the denial stage. Don't worry! We are experts when it comes to love, and we will help guide you to this romance!"

"Bad idea," Bumblebee protested feebly.

"Trust us Bee," Sides said. "You want this, even if you won't admit it."

The scary thing was, Sideswipe was right. He did want this, he wanted it more then anything. He wanted to acknowledge his forbidden feelings. He wanted to see if Arcee felt the same. He wanted what he could not have, what he knew shouldn't be.

"It won't work," Bumblebee said softly.

"What won't?" Sunny asked, tilting his helm. "Your romantic relationship? You haven't even achieved one yet!"

"No," he said, shaking his helm. "The circumstances won't allow it."

"Listen," Sides said. "If you are not willing to take action and work for this femme, then you do not deserve her, because she is worth it all. If you are not going to make an effort to show her how you feel, to express your emotion and show her what she means to you, then she is better off with someone else." He leaned into Bumblebee's optic level. "But let me ask you this one thing: what makes you think that her Selected mate will treat her any better? How do you know that her mate will treat her right? What if you look back and realize that your lack of action caused all of her misery in the first place?"

He pulled back. "Are you ready to take action?"

Bumblebee had no words as he gaped at the other mech in shock.

"Because circumstances to the Pit," Sides said. "Because the only one standing in the way is yourself, no one else. No Prime, no rules, no Selection. Not even Unicron himself is keeping you from admitting the truth."

"Why lie to yourself Bee," Sunny asked quietly. "When the truth is so much easier to admit?"

It was in that moment that Bumblebee fell to his knees, spark feeling as if it was going to leap from his chassis. He let out a strangled gasp as all his thoughts and feelings slammed into him, all of them focused on one blue femme with pink accents.

* * *

King was straightening up before she even entered the room. He could hear her as she walked down the halls, and he he heard her as she opened the cell door that kept him contained.

Sometimes, she would allow him to stay in the same cell as his brothers. Other times, depending on her moods, she would separate them. It was hard to tell where he would be sleeping these days.

He stayed still as she drew near. He did not bother to attack with his claws, or bury his teeth into her neck. He knew long ago not to cross a witch. Especially a witch that had overseen his creation.

Her steps were light and her form was at ease, a sure sign of a good mood. Though what had put her in a good mood, he did not know. Nor did he know if it bode ill for him and his brothers.

He did not move as she drew his energon out from his claw with her tool. He knew not to fight her. Though it had been apparent from the constant screams and screeches of defiance that the Dark One had not learned that yet. For King, he would rather suffer with his dignity rather than be pinned to the ground like a screaming prisoner. The witch would get what she wanted either way, so it was no use to fight back.

He was saving his strength for when it was needed anyway. He was cautious and still as he observed the witch and his surroundings, taking in every little detail that would prove useful when the time to escape came.

Having what she needed, the witch pulled back with a grin, the needle filled with his energon a bright blue light in the room.

He was left alone in his cell once more. He rested his large helm down, his tail curling around him as he fell back to sleep. He had caught a whiff of the witch though; a different scent. She was conducting something. A new experiment. Pretty soon, his pack would have new, additional members.

He let out a rumble at the thought. He'd have to break these new arrivals in and show them who was leader around here. He wondered how long it would take for them to get used to their new forms, and if they would crack from the insanity first.


	17. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: Finally! I have managed to update! So sorry for the long wait, but college is taking up a lot of my time. Thank you so much for your reviews! They really encourage me. God Bless.**

 **I do not own anything.**

* * *

Arcee's good mood could not be ruined by even Unicron himself. She enjoyed just strolling down the streets of Iacon as if she were a regular citizen. Of course, she still had Ark with her as protection, but that was to be expected.

She wondered if the Autobot Heir had any guards with him.

She pushed that thought aside. Nope, she would not think about any of that. Today was her day off from life itself. Right now, she was just going to relax.

She found herself drawn to the shops and ancient buildings, and she came to realize that she enjoyed Ark's presence. It was much more fun to stroll and explore with someone, even if that someone never really spoke unless spoken to.

"What do you think about that?" she asked, pointing to a particularly large building. It was an art museum, judging by the twisting, turning bits of metal that passed for art.

While Arcee was not an expert at art, she did appreciate beauty, and she did want to take advantage of her free day.

Ark looked at the building Arcee was pointing at with a frown. "It is large," the femme commented. "And crowded."

Arcee rolled her optics, grabbing Ark's arm and dragging her toward the building. "Yes, I got that," she said. She was well aware that Ark did not like being out in the open, but no one was going to assassinate two femmes who were merely participating in the Selection. She just wished Ark would understand that.

The colors of the inside of the building was rich, displaying many works of art with many Cybertronians chatting and observing the displays. Arcee just strolled down the halls, optics glancing at the display cases and many statues.

She stopped at a particular large portrait depicting a winged beast. It's optics were a deep gold, fire streaming from its jaw as it loomed over the city below in the painting. Its optics were narrowed and the scenery around it was a dark, angry red.

"Beautiful, right?" a voice said.

Arcee turned to see a black femme staring up at the painting with a wide smile. She was smaller than Arcee in height, which was surprising as there were not many who were shorter than Arcee. "Predacons, while extinct, always seem to capture my attention."

Arcee nodded politely, going back to observing the portrait. "Yes, what Cybertronian hasn't grown up hearing stories of the predacon race?"

"You would be surprised how much truth is actually lost into legend," the femme said simply. Her purple optics seemed to shine as she continued to stare up at the predacon. She giggled. "In fact, there are so many myths that it takes a lifetime to uncover it all."

"Are you a researcher?" Arcee asked, cockign her helm.

She giggled once more. "I'm a scientist. Studying predacons is just a hobby of mine."

Arcee nodded. "Ah, I see."

"The bones that have been uncovered have yielded some most helpful research," the femme continued. "Combining the CNA from a predacon bone with another living being to create an entirely different creature has been successful." Her optics shimmered. "The results have been unimaginable."

"Combining a predacons CNA with a Cybertronian?" Arcee repeated, blinking. "That sounds advanced." And interesting. How is it that she never heard of such an attempt? Maybe she should inform Megatron.

The femme beamed. "It is. The armor of a predacon is indestructible. With that kind of defense used on the battlefield, it would change everything."

"Yet we are not at war," Arcee commented. But, she knew full well that just because the guns had ceased firing did not mean that there was peace. It never was that easy.

"Doesn't stop the research," the femme commented. She looked up at Arcee. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

Arcee watched the femme strut off, frowning as she turned to gaze back at the fierce predacon picture that seemed to now speak signs of an omen.

"Arcee?" a sudden voice asked.

Arcee looked up, startled to see Elita-One who looked equally surprised. Two mechs and one femme were with her, all looking equally professional and elegant. They glanced at Arcee with wary caution, sizing her up with their gazes.

Elita waved her servo at the mechs and femme. "Thank you for attending. I will speak to you later," she said to them. The group did not even hesitate at that moment when Elita dismissed them. With one last look at Arcee, they left in a dignified manner.

Arcee blinked as the taller, pink femme came over. "I was not expecting to see you here," Elita confessed. "I was going to wait to speak with you until you were back."

Arcee glanced at the retreating mechs and femme who were previously with Elita. "Well, I don't mean to keep you from anything important," she said.

Elita waved a dismissive servo. "Oh, you're not. I was just finishing up some Council business." She grinned. "Your company is much more enjoyable."

Arcee fell into step with her. "You said that you wanted to speak with me when I got back," she stated.

Elita just smiled. "I hear you are having mech problems."

Arcee stopped and felt her spark dop for a moment. Now, her previous good mode was slowly ebbing away. She sighed. "Did Megatron send you?"

Elita smiled. "Of a sort. He wanted me to talk to you." She looked at Arcee. "But I cannot get you to talk to me if you do not want to speak. But, I am more then willing to listen."

Arcee nodded politely. "Thank you," she said.

"As for now," Elita said simply. "Shall we enjoy the precious art before us?"

Arcee grinned back as she and Elita strolled down the halls, both glancing at the pictures and anything that passed for art every so often.

"How tragic," she heard Elita murmur. Arcee stopped to see what had caught Elita's attention.

It was a picture depicting a golden femme, surrounded in blue light as she hovered in the air. Eleven mechs below her were frozen in an intense battle, all surging towards a dark figure that seemed to be reaching out for the femme, his clawed servos open in vain.

"The tragic tale of Solus Prime," Elita said. She pointed at the femme surrounded in blue light. "Here, she is being lifted up into the arms of her father, Primus, for protection. Below her, her brothers fight her former lover, the one who was responsible for her death."

"The Fallen," Arcee said with a nod. "Yes, it is a tragic story."

"It is more than that," Elita said. "It is a reminder. What could have been was destroyed by ambition and greed. With one, wrong act, the dynasty of the Primes fell."

"Honestly," Arcee confessed. "There are so many ballads and legends of Solus Prime and the Fallen, that is has been turned into nothing more than a dramatic love story."

"History has been warped," Elita agreed. "Even I do not know what occurred between Solus Prime and the Fallen. There may not have even been romance between them, but maybe the historians wanted to make history interesting."

"History is already interesting enough with what it has to teach," Arcee said. "You can learn without the lies."

Elita nodded. "True enough," she said. "Without history to remind us of the past, we are doomed to repeat its mistakes." She cocked her helm. "Have you enjoyed your stay in Iacon?"

Arcee nodded. "I have, immensely so." She bowed her helm slightly. "Thank you for the hospitality."

Elita merely smiled. "No thanks is needed. It has been a pleasure to see you again, Arcee. You have grown." That last note was said in a faint whisper. "I am pleased with how you have grown and matured these past few years, and you have been an amazing influence. You have a good helm on your shoulders and you are very insightful."

Arcee waited, aware that something more was to be said.

"But," Elita said thoughtfully. "Please do remember that it is never a sign of weakness to seek out help, especially in these uncertain times."

"I am not even sure how to go about asking for this type of help," Arcee found herself confessing. "How can I seek help, if I do not know what plagues me?"

"Talking," Elita said simply as they slowly walked to another painting. "Just by talking can help make sense of a situation. Feelings are confusing, but you can never shut them out. Feelings are like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, and when they do go off, the aftermath can be very destructive. That is where most arguments come from. Talking and having one to listen can ease the pressure and make sense of the confusion." She paused. "I am not saying that I am the one you should talk to. Maybe there is someone else you trust who can listen and offer advice. But they cannot help you if they do not know that you seek their aid."

Arcee was silent. She trusted Elita, but she did not know her as well. She had always been drawn to the pink femme, and maybe someday, she would speak with Elita about her feelings and muddled thoughts. But right now, she wasn't ready. Not until she sorted herself out and made sense of everything.

* * *

His thoughts and guilt plagued him and did not cease to torment him in the night. He tossed and turned, squeezing his optics shut as he tried to block his hurried mind. By early morning, he did not feel well, physically, and emotionally.

"I don't feel well," he grumbled, not bothering to raise his helm from the berth.

That was an understatement. He felt awful. His spark clenched with guilt whenever he was around Optimus, Elita or anyone for that matter. He could not meet their optics and he didn't even want to be in the same room with them, lest he break down and make a fool of himself.

He was also terrified about what this could mean for Arcee. Would the Twins tell anyone about what they had found? What would happen to her if she was punished? The very least, he would be disgraced, but Arcee could lose so much more.

Then there was the other problem; his conflicting feelings. Yes, he was attracted to her. More then that, he liked her. He enjoyed being around her and he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. She was easy for him to be around and he felt relaxed and calm. He enjoyed her smile and her quick wit and ability to handle herself well. She could be feisty, yet she could handle complicated situations in a calm, dignified manner. But he knew that she was more than capable of using less sociable means to defend her case if need be.

The thought of harm befalling her filled him with dread. The thought of her being promised to someone else filled him with an unpleasant, angry ache. He saw the fear and uncertainty in her optics when she spoke of her Autobot Selected mate, and he wanted to hold her and chase her fears away.

He whimpered at the thought, curling up into a tight ball and trying to make himself as small as possible. "I am so pathetic," he mumbled.

He was aware that he should get up now, but he felt too heavy to move. He was weighed down by his thoughts and feelings, unable to make sense of anything.

"I should just stay here for eternity," he grumbled, tossing around as anger filled him. "It would solve a lot of my problems. Make things simple." He flopped back down, closing his optics. But that proved to be a mistake as his thoughts turned into images; taunting images with voices. He curled up into a ball once more, trying to make himself smaller.

He let out an angry yell as sudden helplessness and frustration filled him. His yell transformed into a harsh growl as he threw the thermal blanket against the nearest shelf, the sound doing little to ease his chaotic emotions.

The sound of crashing datapads caused him to glare at the mess he made. Datapads had fallen from the shelf when his thermal blanket had hit it.

He could only glare, trying to hold onto his anger as it was the only thing blocking his unwanted thoughts and feelings. But soon, his anger left him with the resigned breath he let out, his shoulders relaxing as he felt disappointment with himself for letting his anger get the best of him.

He rolled out of his berth and stumbled to the mess he made, kneeling down and picking them up. He started sorting through them, trying to see where they had originally been stored. He caught sight of the Key Card that had fallen, and he picked it up, observing it for any damage.

His optics caught sight of a particular stack of datapads, the ones he would read most of the time. He carefully picked one up, noticing the writing of his future mate back when they had written to each other. He stared without really seeing what was before him, the lettering and symbols blurring.

He glanced back at the datapads, the ones his intended mate had sent him. He did not know much about her, but his mind had created this femme from the information he had gathered over the years. But over the past week, that femme had become someone familiar, someone he recognized. She was a Decepticon, but she was not his Selected mate.

But Arcee was so much more than a nameless femme.

He placed the datapads away, shoulders straight as he let out a sigh. Maybe it was time for him to start paying attention to those who were already in his life.

He clenched the Key Card in his servos. He remembered the day Optimus had given it to him. He had said it was an heirloom, and that it was now Bumblebee's because of how proud he was of him and that it was a sign of trust.

Bumblebee let out another sigh. Well, he did have a duty to perform. Optimus did trust him and Bumblebee was determined to not let him down. But he was also not going to let himself down in the process either. He would do nothing for the moment. He would ride things out and see where and how his feelings developed. If nothing grew short of a close friendship between him and Arcee, then great. But if it grew into something more, then he would go to Optimus Prime about his new feelings and how he wanted to act on them.

But at the moment, he would wait.

Yet, as he left his room, he could not help but think how much he was looking forward to seeing Arcee again, and how excited he was to be in her presence again. But he ignored the rapid beating of his spark, chalking it up as to just nerves.

* * *

It did not take long for the Twins to finally realize that they needed backup if they wanted to help out Bumblebee and Arcee. But they were not ones to go about spreading rumors at the cost of betraying one's trust. So they found that they were stuck as they could not ask anyone for inside info on Bumblebee's current love life.

Until an opportunity seemed to drop on their laps.

Conveniently, they had been talking about the lack of detail in Bumblebee's love life.

"Does he even have a love life?" Sunny asked with a frown, looking up from the datapad he was reading. "I mean, what's his type of femme?"

Sides let out a grunt as he plopped the stack of datapads he had been carrying down on the table. "Well," he said, cocking his helm, lost in thought. "We haven't known him for long, so I would say no. But he does seem like an easy going mech who would attract the ladies."

Sunny hummed. "The nice, bubbly type of ladies. What about that femme he's always hanging out with. Moonracer?"

"I thought of that too," Sides admitted, sitting down and flipping through a datapad. "At first glance, there seemed to be something going on. But I'm kind of getting a sort of sibling vibe from her, more than a romantic vibe. Know what I mean?"

Sunny let out a disappointed huff. "Yeah, I guess. What of that Firestar girl?"

"She's a stuck up," Sides said simply. At this point, it had become abundantly clear that the Twins were not bothered by all their snooping around. They were not ashamed with all the spying and information they had dug up. As far as they were concerned, they were helping out two equally strong willed, self sacrificial Cybertronians who needed help in recognizing the love they had for each other.

Plus, the Twins were bored and had nothing to do.

"Besides," Sides said. "She's too by the book. She would never have a relationship with anyone who wasn't her Selected mate."

Sunny nodded. "Yeah, seems right." At this point, he was willing to agree with his snoopy brother at the moment. "Speaking of which," he said thoughtfully. "Did you get any info in Bee's Decepticon Selected spark mate?"

Sides looked at him with a grimace. "I tried, and I nearly had a spark attack when some faceless freak jumped out at me. I nearly leaked right then and there! And then he dragged me out of the room and I thought he was leading me to rip out my spark and eat it!"

Sunny raised an optic ridge. "And…?"

"Well, all he did was throw me at Prowl's pedes, which was worse. I was offering my spark to be eaten up by the faceless mech at that point. Having it eaten is better than facing Prowl's wrath."

"Now you're just being dramatic," Sunny grumbled, looking back at his datapad.

"Life is too boring to be simple," Sides pointed out. He frowned, cocking his helm. "By the way, have you found anything useful?"

Sunny groaned, throwing the datapad down with a huff. "No! All these datapads have useless junk on romance and feelings. All they have to offer is how the spark and processor work and how that mixes in with thoughts and feelings. If I wanted to be a doctor or a psychiatrist, I would have changed my designation."

Sides grimaced. "Well, we've only looked through twenty-three different datapads so far. Nothing worth doing is ever easy." He scowled. "Picked that up from Prowl."

"Still," Sunny complained. "I learned more about spark bonding than I ever wanted to know." He propped his pedes up on the table in a lazy gesture. "All of it was deeply detailed and so disturbing that I am trying to rid the images out of my helm."

Sides perked up. "Which datapad is that?"

Sunny kicked the offending datapad over to his brother who eagerly snatched it up. He opened it, only to frown. "Hey," he complained. "This is the psychiatrist one!"

Sunny frowned. "Oops, wrong one." He kicked another one over. "Here, I think it's this one." He leaned back in his chair again with a bored sigh. "Still, not one of them is helping us in getting any closer to bringing Arcee and Bee closer together."

"Wait, what?" a sudden voice exclaimed, drawing their attention.

Sideswipe looked up in shock while Sunstreaker twisted his helm to see Smokescreen staring at them in shock. The Twins exchanged looks that bordered on sheepishness for a moment before an idea struck them.

And that is how an oppurtunity dropped on their laps.

* * *

"If it was supposed to be a secret," Smokescreen hissed. "Then you shouldn't be talking about it in public!"

"Still," Sunny argued. "You're Bee's friend and won't betray him, right?"

"Or else we'll have to erase your memory banks, and we are just learning how to do that," Sides added. "It is quite an unpleasant experience, but we are more than willing to do it."

Smokescreen was uncertain if they were being serious, or not. But he decided not to push it. But it was not like he had any intention of ratting Bumblebee and Arcee out to anyone. It was their own mess to deal with, and he would not get involved.

"But," Sides said. "Since you are now aware of the situation, you can help us."

"I am not getting dragged into this," Smokescreen said harshly, backing up, only to be dragged forward by the two determined mechs.

"C'mon Smokes," Sunny whined. "Bee is your friend, and he needs help. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't help him?"

"You don't want him to be on his deathbed, realizing he had been living a lie and a life that was not his own," Sides said. "What was the point of even living if he wasn't living the life he was supposed to have?"

"It would be like a prison for him," Sunny added. "He would have to put on a fake face, acting for all to see. Hopelessness would seep in at the middle of the night while he would awake to the daytime of torture and falsehood."

"A miserable existence that would surely break him," Sides said.

"You are being dramatic," Smokescreen protested. "Bumblebee has never looked that depressed."

"Because he's a good actor," Sunny replied.

"Seriously?" Sides exclaimed, cutting his brother off. "How can you not see it? Even we, who haven't known Bee for long, can tell when he is faking it. You've been his lifelong friend, you should be able to pick up on the signs. Or do you just go through the motions?"

"There are signals that Cybertronians subconsciously send, hoping someone will take notice, unintentional or not. Can you not pick up on that?"

It was in that moment that Smokescreen knew that he was stuck. His resolve was beginning to crumble from all the banter going around, but it was made even worse when a certain, yellow mech made it into the room.

"Hey Smokes!" Bumblebee said cheerfully, rushing over. "Are you up for a race after training?"

"Better crame in as much races as you can," Sides said suddenly. "Things'll start to pick up and you soon won't have time for any of that when the Selection is over."

Bumblebee's wings dropped slightly and the light in his optics dimmed a little, but his smile never left. "Yeah," he said brightly. "Living life to the fullest as much as I can before all the drama strikes."

"The drama has already struck," Sunny muttered, but Bumblebee did not hear. Only Smokescreen and Sides were close enough to hear.

Bumblebee turned to look at Smokescreen. "So, you racing?"

Dear Primus, the Twins were right. Right about the acting, the faking. Everything. "Yeah," Smokescreen found himself saying. "I'll be at the track."

The light in his optics returned. "Great! See you there!"

Primus help him. How had the Twins roped him into this?

* * *

"How do we even know if Arcee feels the same way towards Bee?" Smokescreen asked.

The Twins just shrugged. "She does. They're obviously attracted to each other."

Smokescreen raised an optic ridge, but didn't question any further. "So, what is your plan?"

"We were thinking romantic gestures," Sides said.

Sunny frowned. "I thought we were going to create a love triangle and spark some jealousy!"

Sides waved a servo. "Nah, too complicated. It would take too long."

"But it would build character!"

"And it is still too complicated," Sides said. "You have conflicting feelings, along with torn hearts and someone always winds up hurt." Sides folded his arms. "Besides, who would we use for the third point in the triangle? Smokescreen?"

"I'm still here," the white mech pointed out with a frown of disapproval.

"Nah, I was thinking of using this one mech, Cliffjumper," Sunny said. "I think he and Arcee would get along just fine." He shrugged. "But I can see your point. It would be too complicated, and we already have a relationship going so well here. No need to mess with success."

Sides pouted. "Aw man, now I can see the merits of a love triangle! Let's do it!"

"But it's too complicated," Sunny protested. "And I don't want to do it anymore."

"I'm done," Smokescreen said suddenly, pushing back his chair and storming out of the room. "I can't handle this."

* * *

He was unable to escape the weirdness for too long. The Twins found him with more information and crazy ideas.

"Maybe music," Sunny suggested.

"Or romantic settings," Sides said.

"They seem to be doing just fine on their own," Smokescreen added. "Why don't we do what we have been doing and just offer them advice when they seek it?"

The Twins huffed. "They are in serious need of help," Sunny said.

"And we will give it to them!" Sides declared. "But Bee better act now, because the Decepticons are leaving today."

"And I want to at least say my goodbyes," Smokenscree grumbled as he quickened his steps.

"This will be a perfect opportunity to make a romantic setting!" Sunny exclaimed. "Operation, First Kiss is under way!"

Smokescreen blinked, startled. "Hey! Wait! Don't you think it's a bit early for a kiss?"

"Shalalala shut up!" the Twins sang as they rushed down the halls to hatch their scheme. Smokescreen really didn't want to, but he followed them anyway out of fear that they would do something foolish.

* * *

"Hey! Arcee!" Bumblebee shouted, catching her attention as he ran after her. He couldn't believe that the day had finally come when the Selected Decepticons would take their leave. But it was here, and the Autobots would soon join them in Kaon.

She looked up in faint surprise as he ran up to her, looking up at him in confusion. "Bee?" She asked. "What are-?"

"I wanted to see you off," he said breathlessly. "And I wanted to say, see you later." He smiled at her. "I can't wait to see what you have to show me in Kaon."

She blinked, startled. "Kaon?"

He grinned. "Of course! When I am in Kaon, I'll need to do stuff. What better way to spend my time then to have you show me your home?"

She was speechless for a moment before a slow, small smile spread on her face. "I would love to," she said earnestly.

He beamed, "Great! Better prepare that checklist of yours, because I hear Kaon is a tourist hot spot."

She chuckled. "I'll show you the gladiator pits first." She was already making a mental note of taking him zip lining, her personal favorite past time.

"My second favorite place," he said with a matching grin. He took her slim servo in his, shaking it warmly. "See you later," he said, refraining from saying goodbye.

She grasped his servo, not wanting to let go. "See you later, Bee," she said with a smile. "I look forward to seeing you again."

They smiled at each other as he answered back, "Me too."

* * *

The three Cybertronians just watched as the two stood in the crowd. The bright, yellow paint color was easy to spot and it was not hard to identify who the small blue femme he was conversing with was.

"Still think they need our help?" Smokescreen asked smugly.

"Well," Sides said. "Don't tell me you're not the least bit curious to see how this plays out?"

"Of course I'm curious," Smokescreen said, going back to watching the two in a non, creepy stalker way. "I am just going to stand back and mind my own business while watching them like a scraplet."

The Twins looked at eachother with triumphant grins. Sunny clapped Smokescreen on the shoulder as all three of them watched Bumblebee and Arcee. "Welcome to the dark side, Smokes," Sunny said with a devious grin.


	18. Chapter 17

Arcee clenched her servos as her thoughts wandered around with no clear direction. She gazed out the wide, open windows of Kaon, her mind far off with the flying seekers who soared in the skies. She folded her arms, tapping her finger as she followed the seekers trail outside as they flew off and out of sight.

She could not think, she could not process much at the moment.

She let out a tired sigh before turning away and wandering down the halls, her steps echoing in the silence. She knew these halls like the back of her servo. She was familiar with these halls, she grew up in them. Memories of herself as a youngling running down these very halls without a care in the world crossed her mind. Light giggles filled her audio receptors as she glanced up to see the phantom of a young femme running with a wide smile on her face. She was followed closely by a large, intimidating silver mech who was just learning how to smile, his crimson optics watching her intently.

What she would give to be that sparkling again, to escape into the memories of her sparklinghood. Things were not as complicated when she had been young. She only wished she could have stayed in that stage of sparklinghood.

But then, if she had remained a sparkling, she would not have known what she had just discovered. She would not know what she did now. But even now, at the age of adulthood, she was still learning, still figuring out this new, fragile feeling that was so foreign to her.

What had she just discovered? Was it even important? More importantly, did it change anything? She most certainly didn't feel the same, that was for sure.

She barely registered the fact that she was entering a new room until the doors were sliding open. She blinked before regaining her composure, entering the large, dim laboratory. Her optics adjusted and her gaze was drawn to the lone figure that was hunched over his table. His one, large optic did not blink as he did not even gaze up at her.

"You are early," he commented, setting his tools down with practiced ease. He finally looked up to acknowledge her.

She approached the workstation, servo lightly touching the silver table as she eyed the many tools that were neatly placed. "I had some free time," she answered. She handed the document she had been carrying. "Lord Megatron wants a report on your progress within the hour."

Shockwave nodded, accepting the documents she handed to him. At that moment, her optics caught sight of a flash of orange glass. She titled her helm as she noted how the orange, glass object was not yet finished, but was near completion. It looked delicately framed, forming that of a simple flower.

"I will deliver a full report when I attend Lord Megatron's meeting," Shockwave said, moving back to his work and blocking her view of the glass flower, whether it was intentional or not.

She looked back at him. "Of course," she said. "You always deliver results, Shockwave. That is why we keep you."

"My worth to the Decepticons and Lord Megatron are determined by my results," he answered, turning back to his work.

Arcee frowned, unsure if she should leave yet. His comment did broach some questions, but she had no other reason to stay here. As an afterthought, she turned her back on him and proceeded to step out when she caught sight of Shockwave's latest work.

"I thought you had abandoned the cortical psychic patch," she commented curiously.

"I never abandon great potential," he answered. "I invented the cortical psychic patch, and its knowledge is not lost to everyone."

She frowned, her interest caught. "What use would we have for a machine such as that?" she asked. Though it was not lost on her what kind of technology such a machine could do, and she could understand why the Decepticons were rushing to complete the project. She knew that many of Shockwave's projects had been stolen as his many labs were raided during the war.

"The same use our enemies would have of it," he answered. "There is no way of calculating the amount of knowledge that was stolen from my labs."

She blinked, thinking of the experiments and reports of gruesome and disturbing research the Decepticon scientists had performed during the war. She could only imagine what one could do with the knowledge that Shockwave produced, but that didn't mean she was comfortable with his pursuits. He was an accomplished mech who had managed to switch off his emotions, so she guessed he was incapable of feeling remorse, or any other type of strong feelings for that matter. He used his clawed servos to break down and examine with deadly precision. He thrived for science and to quench his thirst for logic and ambition.

But another glance of the uncomplete, orange glass flower gave her a slight pause in her negative thoughts. But it was only a slight pause. She gave a quick, polite nod to Shockwave before turning and leaving the scientist alone once more to his never-ending work.

She returned to the room that was labeled her office. Sorting through the documents, she sat down with a sigh, optics scanning the numbers and reports. She a determined nod, she dove right into her work.

It was situations like this when she would let the time pass her by, and she would get lost in her work as she sorted through numbers and calculations. She liked forcing her processor to think, and she enjoyed piecing together numbers and sorting through records. But today, she was doing it for another reason entirely, which was keeping unwanted thoughts away from her helm.

She flipped through the last stack of datapads. Nodded firmly to herself as she closed it with a 'snap,' she felt a sense of accomplishment along with a sense of aprehnsion. Now that she was done, she might as well head down for some training; maybe wake her body up again with the intense workout that Ark subjected them both through.

Just as she was about to push back from her desk, she stopped when another datapad caught her attention. She glanced down and noticed that it was not one of the records she was tasked with filling out or looking over. Picking it up, she realized that it was a datapad on legend and lore and based on predacons.

She huffed, remembering the moment she had grabbed it off the shelf, the painting and conversation with that femme in the Iacon museum all too fresh in her mind. She did not know what had possessed her to grab the datapad in the moment, but she didn't feel interested in reading about predacons now. She found that most of what she had read was based off of nothing but legends and myth. It was hardly anything to go by if she was looking for solid research, and not a fantasy tale.

She set the datapad back down with an uninterested sigh, before stopping and glancing at her desk once more. She really did not want another datapad cluttering her neat desk, so she might as well put it in her room, or see if Ark wanted some leisure time to read.

She snorted at the thought. Ark pleasure reading? The Pits of Kaon would be paved with gold before that ever happened.

She finally stood up with the datapad in her servo, leaving her office for the day. The doors closed behind her, leaving her once more alone in the hallways. Ark did not follow her around when she was in the Decepticon capital, except when she went out on the streets. But from here, Arcee was free to roam on her own.

Or as alone as she could get. She was well aware that Soundwave may or may not be watching her. She was also aware that as the Decepticon Heir, she was closely monitored. It didn't bother her as much that it was Soundwave, or Barricade that watched her. Barricade had taught her how to fight and had thus earned her respect and admiration. Soundwave had been the one to introduce her to the cruelties of the world, even if he had not known it.

She still remembered the scarring of his face, and how he had tried to hide it from her when she had stumbled into his chambers as a sparkling. In that instant, she had felt sorrow that he was in such pain, and she wanted to make it better for him. It had not occurred to her innocent, sparkling mind that someone had purposefully done that to him, someone had mauled him and stolen his face. It was not until she was older did she realize that he had made it an effort to hide his scars from her. She had seen scars before, but never as defected as his.

It was the fact that he had tried to hide it from her that had opened her optics to the good and the bad of Cybertron. She understood the unspeakable acts Megatron, Soundwave, and Shockwave committed. She understood that they had destroyed lives and almost destroyed a world in their conquest. But she also understood that it took two sides to fight a war. The Autobots committed unspeakable acts as well, and this Selection was trying to mend all of that.

Her steps faltered for just a moment. Could her newly founded feelings endanger all of that? Could she start a war if she allowed her feelings to grow? The very thought was terrifying and brought shame down on her. What of Bumblebee? Was he aware of the dangers? True, it might not hold as much consequence for him. But for her, one not so simple change could destroy everything.

She glanced down at the datapad in her servo before making an unconscious decision to see Megatron. A quick glance at the time showed that his meeting should be over by now, as it had only been scheduled to last for three hours. Yet, one could never tell with Megatron these days. He had been leaving her out of a lot of intel, which irritated her to no end. She liked to be informed of events, especially if she was to help govern Cybertron.

Her steps were measured and paced as she made her way to the meeting room, wondering if she was going to catch any bit of news that she was not supposed to hear. But as the doors slid open, she was disappointed to find Megatron alone.

Well, maybe she wasn't disappointed. She felt a mixture of relief and curiosity at that point: Relief that he was alone, curiosity as to what she had missed. She stepped into the room, aware that Megatron was noted of her presence by the slight movement of his helm.

"Acree," he said, looking up. "Is there something I can do for you?"

She strode forward to him, placing the datapad down. "Something I picked up," she said simply.

She did not think Megatron's sudden reaction was what she would get. His calm optics widened as he stared at the datapad as if it were a bomb about to go off. Finally, he looked at her, his optics now calculating and expression void of emotion. For a moment, she felt as if she was staring at the Decepticon Warlord. "Who told you?" he finally asked, voice low.

She blinked, resisting the urge to step back as confusion filled her. "I picked it up," she repeated. "I was just curious when I saw a picture at the Iacon museum."

He stared at her. "Just a picture?" he asked.

More confusion filled her, and she was failing at attempting to look neutral. "Yes," she said. "It was a portrait at the Iacon museum. A femme was speaking about it to me. She also spoke about genetically changing the CNA of predacons and Cybertronians. My curiosity was aroused at the time."

As she had been speaking, some of the tension had left Megatron's shoulders, but as she continued, the stiffness and alertness was back. "Predacon CNA?" he asked. He glanced back down at the datapad, as if uninterested. "That femme was clearly delusional to even fantasize such ideas."

"Clearly," Arcee repeated, watching how his fingers were tapping an agitated rhythm on the table. Her optics narrowed as her processor was flooded with thoughts and suspicions.

"So you gave me something for pleasure reading?" Megatron asked suddenly. "Because of some femme making comments about predacons?"

Arcee blinked, pulled back to the present. "Well, yes, I don't need a datapad on myth and lore that does not apply to today."

"You would be surprised at how much myth and legend apply to history," Megatron said thoughtfully, fingering the datapad. "Decepticons are much like predacons. We fight fiercely, we deceive and we are con-artists." He smirked. "Some might say we have no honor. I prefer to think that our actions come from the need to survive." He placed the datapad away. "We also don't like to share what is ours." At that, his expression turned almost predatory, his servos clenched possessively. "We have an ambition, and we do not like to lose what is rightfully ours. Let me just say, we guard our treasure with a fierce jealousy like a predacon would."

He glanced at her. "I see that fierce jealousy in you as well."

She huffed, rolling her optics. "I hardly ever get jealous."

"No," he said. "But you do get possessive. You see what you think is yours, and you fight to obtain it." He rose from his seat, towering over her. "It is the Decepticon nature inside of you, and I like to think that it is my influence that has helped you achieve that."

She matched his grin as she stared up at him. "You have influenced me more then you know."

He caressed her cheek in an unnatural display of affection, and she saw that possessive glint in his optics. "It will be so hard to let you go."

"And to an Autobot no less," she commented.

He dropped his servo. "Yes, to think I am loosing you to an Autobot."

"You are not loosing me," she promised. "You are gaining an ally."

He did not look satisfied as he bent down to retrieve the datapad. He stared at it for an intense moment before flipping it with a careless shrug. "I might be interested in something like this," he said. "Maybe I'll have Soundwave look at it as well."

She smirked. "Glad I could give you something fun to do," she said as he left. The smirk, however, faded from her face as she pondered what had just taken place. Megatron's reaction to the datapad was confusing, if anything else. She had felt that moment of alarm, worried at what he would do next. All of that over predacons?

Well, whatever it was, he was not going to tell her if she just outright asked him. What would she even ask him anyway? About the predacons and why he looked so disturbed about them?

He had never looked disturbed in all the times he had raised her. Conflicted, maybe, but never disturbed. Come to think of it, she could compare Megatron to a mighty, fearless predacon if she had to.

Possessive, fierce, and a deceiver. Those were the main attributes that she could identify Megatron with. She could also identify herself with the first two attributes as well.

She saw what she liked, and she fought for it. She did not like to share what was hers, and she guarded it fiercely.

Yet, here she was, conflicted with what she wanted, and not knowing what to do. Was she so willing to step aside and not do anything? Was she so ready to lose the one mech who she was actually developing feelings for? Was she going to let another femme take advantage of what she had left unguarded?

She felt a growl form in her throat at the thought of another femme waltzing right up to Bumblebee with with ease. Her servos curled into fists as she dwelled on such a notation. No, she was not going to let such a thing happen. Selection could go to the Pits at this moment.

"Alright," she said, looking upwards in the empty room. "Alright! If something comes out of it, I will act." She clenched her fists. "If something comes out of it, I will not lose." She felt her spark thrum at the thought of taking action. No more was she going to stand by and let fate decide her life. If she was going to have a mate, she was going to have a say in who her mate was going to be.

* * *

"I want to know how something like this got out," Megatron demanded in the dark room, throwing the datapad down on the metal table. The legend and lore of the predacon datapad stared at the ceiling. He still could not understand how Arcee had come across such info. It was too detailed about the predacon CNA for his comfort.

The four mechs in the room remained silent for a moment, unable to speak as they gathered their thoughts. "The knowledge stolen from my labs during the war may have in fact already been put to use already," Shockwave concluded.

"Project Predacon," Megatron spat. "Is in the servos of the Autobots?"

 _"Rebels?"_ Soundwave asked instead, proposing a different option.

"Rebels or Autobots," Starscream said. "It does not matter. Those plans are in the servos of someone not in our faction." He looked at Megatron. "A femme at the Iacon museum brought this up?"

"Most likely a defected Autobot," Barricade interjected. "Prime is too soft to conduct such experiments."

"To the public eye," Megatron said. "But who is to say that Optimus is aware of such experiments?" He looked at Soundwave. "I want all surveillance pulled up at that museum. Identify that femme, and locate her immediately. Find out if she has any connections with Dirge and the rebels." He glanced at Barricade. "Have the scouts found nothing yet?"

"Dirge has vanished off the face of Cybertron," Barricade answered. "There is no record of him leaving the planet. Most likely, he is dead, or has friends in high places we cannot reach."

"There is no such thing as unreachable high places," Megatron growled. "Not for me, and not in my city." He frowned. "It may be time for us to take a closer look at the spies we had employed during the war. Our double agents have always remained shaky with both Autobots and Decepticons."

"I am guessing alerting the Autobots to our actions is out of the question," Starscream huffed.

Megatron smirked. "You guessed correctly. I am aware Optimus Prime wants us to maintain an honest relationship to keep the peace. But what those Autobots don't realize is that one must compromise to maintain peace. No need to worry Optimus about the Decepticons business."


	19. Chapter 18

Bumblebee looked up with a smile when he saw Moonracer on the track. He ran towards her in an effort to escape the Twins who were determinedly following him. He was thinking of getting a restraining order on those two. As he approached Moonracer, he stopped when he saw the distracted look on her face. "Moony!" he asked. "You okay?"

She jolted back, blinking rapidly. "Oh, Bee! Yeah, I'm fine." She rubbed the back of her helm. "I'm just tired, and I have a lot on my mind."

He grinned. "I know what you mean," he confessed. He glanced at her. "It's crazy to think that we will be heading off to Kaon pretty soon."

She let out a forced laugh. "Yeah, crazy." She paused as the silence descended on them, and Bumblebee observed her with concern. "Bee, we're friends, right?" she asked suddenly

He blinked, taken by surprise. "What? Yeah, we are."

"And we'll always be friends," she stated.

Now he did not know how to reply. "I would hope so," he said. "I care for you, Moony, and I value our friendship."

She smiled softly. "I do too." She took in a deep breath. "This Selection, have you ever been happy with the situations?"

He paused. "Um, well, I never really thought much about it until the Decepticons arrived. But I haven't been really...content with them. I mean, I feel like the situation's very limiting, you know?" He finished that word awkwardly, not knowing what answer she was hoping from him.

But Moonracer just nodded. "Yes, I understand." She looked up with a small frown, wrapping her arms around herself. At that moment, she looked really small and unsure, and it was a look that Bumblebee was not used to seeing on his usually spunky and perky friend.

"Hey, Moonracer," he started, coming forward. "Are you alright?"

She looked up at him, optics uncertain. She let out a shaky breath. "I'm fine Bee, I just...I don't feel like racing today. Maybe I'll take a day off."

He nodded, reaching out to her. "Hey, maybe we could go somewhere else instead if you want?"

She let out a small smile. "Thanks, but I think Mirage wanted to...take me someplace this evening. It might be a good relaxation."

He stepped back, uncertain. "Alright, you relax, okay?" She nodded, preparing to leave. "You and Mirage seem to be really close," he noted suddenly.

She stopped for a moment, a hint of a smile on her face. "He's a good mech, Bee, and he treats me well."

Bumblebee smiled at her. "I should hope so. Take care, and don't strain yourself." He frowned thoughtfully. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

She hesitated. "I know," she said. "But, I feel like I need to get my thoughts in check before I talk." She looked at him. "I just need to figure out what is going on with myself."

Hadn't he been saying the same thing to himself and everyone? And yet, he felt like he could help Moonracer just by listening to her. The very thought sent a pain through his spark, and he found it difficult to speak as emotions and thoughts crashed together. "Right," he said. "I understand."

He saw the conflicted look in Moonracers face as she turned to leave, vanishing from view. He could only stare, his thoughts hazy as racers called his name as the race began.

* * *

Bumblebee honestly did not know how and why he was in such a state. He had questions that he knew possessed no answers. He wanted to ask for help, he wanted to ask for guidance.

He was just afraid.

"Bumblebee," he heard a voice say, snapping him out if his thoughts. He looked up with wide optics to see Optimus standing in front of him. The Prime's deep blue optics stared at him with curiosity and openness.

Bumblebee looked down, not willing to face the Prime. He was aware that if he did not leave immediately, the danger of spilling his unwelcome feelings would only grow, and he did not want that. He could not risk that, but at the same time, he was aware that he could not go on like this. He felt unarmed and unaware of what to do.

So instead, he swallowed, took in a deep breath, and adopted a neutral expression. "Optimus," he greeted politely.

Optimus tilted his helm as something flashed in his optics. Bumblebee could have sworn he heard the Prime let out a sigh as he rested his servo on Bumblebee's shoulder. "Walk with me," he instructed, gently guiding the younger mech in a different direction.

Bumblebee complied, following the older mech as they fell into step. They both stayed silent as they walked, and the silence was comfortable and peaceful. Bumblebee felt some of the tension leave his shoulders as he relaxed, enjoying the nice weather for a moment.

Soon, they left the building and emerged in the private courtyards. The light of day was bright and Bumblebee blinked his optics, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays on his armor. He closed his optics for just a moment, feeling content and safe.

"Interesting that these statues have remained here, even during the war," he heard Optimus state, drawing him from his thoughts. Bumblebee looked up and saw that they were standing before the statue of Prima, the large, white stone gleaming in the sun as the copy of the Prime stood tall, wielding the Star Saber over his helm. A few yards back, the statue of Solus Prime stood, wielding her Forge as she was crouched down with her one servo outstretched. She either looked like she was reaching for something, or preparing for a battle; caught between two different options.

Much like how Bumblebee felt.

"But peace has been attained," Optimus said. "Despite all the sacrifices, battles and bloodshed, peace has finally been attained."

"Is there even truly peace?" Bumblebee found himself asking suddenly. He blinked, taking a moment longer to gather his thoughts. "I mean, when the Selection goes through, the Heirs will be united, but will there ever truly be peace?"

Optimus glanced at him, folding his servos behind his back. "There is never really peace, only those who are willing to fight for it. The Selection is more of a propaganda then anything. True, the Heirs will govern Cybertron, but there will be elected politicians elected by the people who will govern and advise the Heirs. It was a system that was put into works for many years."

Bumblebee frowned. "Propaganda?" he asked. "But those in the Selection earn a place in the Cybertronian government. Right?"

"Yes, but if they yield no results, then they will be evicted," Optimus answered. "Cybertron cannot suffer because of the selfish acts of one being.

Bumblebee felt a swirl of guilt fill him. Was he being selfish for even entertaining such thoughts about Arcee, a femme who was not chosen to be his mate? Was he putting all of Cybertron at risk because of his feelings? He had thought that Arcee's absence would help him make sense of his feelings. But if anything, he found his thoughts occupied with her every day. When he went racing, all he could think about was how fast she had been racing alongside him. When he had been reading, he found himself wondering what she was doing. When he heard music, all he could think about was how close she had been to him when they had danced, and how she had felt in his arms.

No, if anything, her absence made him feel worse. Was that the whole point? For him to feel terrible about himself as he thought of her?

"Cybertron is in need of leaders who will put the well beings of others above their own," Optimus said. "Yet, Cybertron needs driven mechs and femmes who know what they want and how to go about obtaining it. If a mech cannot maintain himself and his home, then he cannot maintain Cybertron and is not fit to govern. If he is not ready to fight for himself and his beliefs, then he cannot fight for Cybertron."

Now Bumblebee could see the crossroads that was being presented to him, and he just wanted it all to stop. He was aware of the bits of wisdom that Optimus was giving him, but they were all presenting different options.

He let out a sigh. "It all seems to be moving too fast," he confessed.

"You will meet your mate in due time," Optimus said. "But the end of the Selection is not for a while. You already know how to handle yourself in court, and you have taken over the governing of Cybertron. I am confident in your skills and ability to handle Cybertron and its laws."

Bumblebee smirked ruefully. "From behind the scenes," he said. "And it was not all me. I rely heavily on others as well."

"Which shows you are able to take advice and heed the words of others," Optimus said. He paused. "However, you do need to learn how to be more assertive and separate your own thoughts and ideas from the thoughts of others. You need to weigh your options, and make most of the decisions for yourself."

Bumblebee rubbed his helm. "I know, it all seems so daunting." He closed his optics. "I don't know where to go now," he confessed. "It used to make sense."

"It will be a long, tiring process," Optimus confessed. "But we are all here to help you."

Bumblebee barely resisted the urge to groan. "I know," he said. He stared at the statue of Prima without really seeing its magnificence. "I know," he said softly. He felt Optimus rest a comforting servo on his shoulder. "Bumblebee," he said. "What is troubling you?"

Bumblebee grinned. "Am I that easy to read?"

"I have learned to read many Cybertronians," he answered. "Your optics hold much anxiety." He said nothing more, waiting for Bumblebee to speak.

He felt his spark pick up speed. It would be so easy to confide in Optimus, so easy to speak to him. But then again, he was not sure about the outcomes.

"I am not sure what is even troubling me," he started. He paused for a moment. "No, wait, that's a lie. I do know what is troubling me, but I am not sure how to put it to words. I know what I want, but I am not sure how to obtain it, or even if I should obtain it. I was going to wait it out and see what came out of what it is that I am going through, but that doesn't seem to be working out too well." He paused, feeling his jumbled up words tumble out. "I don't know what I should do. I know what I want to do, but I am afraid to act." He cringed, dreading the reaction Optimus would surely have. Even in his confusing words, he was certain the Prime could pick out the important pieces.

He did not bother to look up and face Optimus as the silence stretched. He squeezed his optics shut before forcing himself to look up and see Optimus staring upwards thoughtfully.

"I see," he heard Optimus mutter. "You are unsure about acting on your desires, despite knowing what you want."

Bumblebee quickly nodded.

"Very well," the Prime said. "Then let me ask you this: If you know what you want, but are unwilling to fight for it, then what good are you to Cybertron? If you cannot keep what you have and maintain it, then you will never gain more."

Bumblebee felt his spark stop. He could not ask Optimus outright about his feelings, but what he was hearing sounded positive. But then again, Optimus did not know the full story, and he was sure the Prime would give him a very different answer if he saw the entire picture.

"Something to think about," he muttered, looking down. This conversation left him more confused than ever. But that was the story of his life at this point "What if I hurt someone with my actions?"

Optimus cocked his helm. "Do you believe that your actions will hurt others?"

"I believe," he hesitated. "I believe that if I do not do something about any of this, that there will be consequences."

"Then do something about it," Optimus said. "What outcomes do you fear?"

"Failing," came the hoarse whisper. "I am afraid of damaging all that you built and fought for. I am afraid of failing you all, and failing myself." He sunk down onto the bench behind him, helm in his servos as the fight drained out of him. "I am afraid of everything not working out."

He felt Optimus's warmth as the Prime wrapped an arm around him, and Bumblebee stiffened up when he realized that this public display of affection would raise some questions. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to curl up in Optimus's arms like a sparkling, he was aware of the dangers of doing so.

"No one is around," Optimus said gently. "The surveillance made sure of that."

With that, Bumblebee relaxed into Optimus's arms, feeling very much like a sparkling again. "You could never fail me," Optimus said. "You have already done so much. Nothing could damage what we have built, I can assure you that. We have created too many backup plans for such an important event like this to fail."

Somehow, Bumblebee doubted that, but Optimus sounded so sure that he could not help but believe those words himself. Instead, he clung to Optimus as he tried to banish his heavy thoughts that troubled him as the statue of Prima stood watch over them.

* * *

"He seems conflicted," Elita noted.

Optimus nodded as he watched the view of the nighttime city streets. "Yes, he does."

"But he seemed to absorb your words," she commented. He sensed the hesitency in her tone. "Would you have told him any different, if he was in a different situation?"

Optimus was wondering the same thing himself. Would he have given Bumblebee different advice if the femme he was involved with was not the Decepticon Heir? Honestly, Optimus was not sure. Actions would have been taken, of that he was certain of. But he knew he would have handled the situation differently.

"I could not outright say to him that what he was feeling was to be encouraged," he said. "I could not urge him to pursue his feelings without compromising the Decepticon Heir's identity."

"But would you have reacted differently?" Elita prodded.

He turned to look at her, his optics weary. "I believe I would have, though I am not sure how."

Elita let out a deep breath. "At least we do not have to face such a situation," she said. She frowned, crossing her arms. "Still, what we are doing is deception. We are toying with their emotions and putting them through the Pit and back. They are torn between their affection for eachother and their loyalty to their cause." Her optics looked grim. "There will be consequences in the end."

Optimus nodded. "I know. I never dreamed that something like this would happen between the two Heirs. It was a miracle."

"It is both a blessing and a curse," she said.

"Very much so," Optimus said. "Nothing will ever remain the same, and there are affairs that must be dealt with." He could feel a processor ache forming at the thought of the work waiting for him in the morning, and he had no doubt that Elita felt the same. He still had to deal with the troops tracking down the rebels, including the escapee, Dirge. Such thoughts concerned him, along with reports of raided Decepticon laboratories.

But at the moment, he would focus on the events closer to home, such as Bumblebee's complicated love life.


	20. Chapter 19

Arcee strolled down the halls, looking up occasionally from her list. She frowned thoughtfully, one servo on her hip while she stared upward at the sky. Her optics narrowed in concentration when she could not find what she was looking for.

She soon made her way up a thin stairwell, her pedesteps making light sounds as she climbed the stone stairs. The dim light cast shadows around her as she made her way to the small ledge. Once on the ledge, she leaned against the balcony, frowning as she looked upward.

Her frown deepened as she continued her search before she let out a frustrated sigh. She glanced back down at her datapad before turning around sharply and making her way back down. Her steps ended when she soon found herself standing in front of a tall, intimidating mech who's back was turned to her. Arcee tapped her fingers on her arm, waiting patiently. Soon, the mech at the computer stopped his typing and slowly turned to look at her, masked helm cocked to regard her.

"So, was it you, or Megatron who removed the wire from the balcony?" she asked, her voice disgruntled.

Soundwave merely looked away, going back to his work as if he was already bored with the conversation. His silence was answer enough.

She sighed in annoyance. "Primus Soundwave, I'm not a sparkling anymore! Stop taking down my zipline!"

 _"Stop taking down my zipline!"_ her voice complained back, but more high pitched than necessary.

She frowned. "I do not sound like that, and I am not throwing a tantrum if that is what you are implying. But I have had more experience in ziplining and rock climbing then a seeker does with flying. You know I can handle myself, so please keep your servos off of my stuff...again. I know how to handle myself and you know I am not careless."

 _"Careless,"_ Soundwave said.

She couldn't help but grin. "It's not as intense as what I have done before. Really Soundwave, I am offended that you think I do not know how to handle such a simple activity."

Soundwave did not stop his typing, but the slight tilt of his helm informed her that he was still listening.

"I am insulted," she continued with a dismissive snort. "That you think I do not know how to handle a measly zipline." She shrugged, spinning on her heel and walking away. "Please do not take it down for the next few vorns," she said. "I am in need of its use, and it would be quite embarrassing if I did not have it ready when I need it."

It was not like she was truly annoyed. Sure, it was extra work to find the right equipment again, and to set up the zipline. But the extra work gave her something to do, aside from sitting at her desk and going over paperwork that did not need to be filled out until later.

As she worked, the clanking sound of metal and gear filling her audio receptors, she could not help but wonder what Bumblebee was doing. Most likely, he was getting ready for his travel to Kaon. Rooms and been set up for the Autobots long before she and the other Decepticons had arrived back from their trip in Iacon. She had no doubt that Megatron and the others would retain their calm and intimidating air for Elita-One and the Autobot Selected when they finally arrived. She also figured that Starscream was shrieking out his orders as well in an attempt to look superior and practice his authority among the Decepticon workers.

She could not help but snort. It irked her to no end that a mech like Starscream knew who the Autobot Heir was while that knowledge was withheld from her. If Starscream had not been near the front lines with Shockwave when Megatron had come crawling back with her in his arms, then Starscream would never have been let in on such important information. Neither would Shockwave for that matter. She knew Megatron valued their skills and abilities to the Decepticon cause, but she also knew that he did not trust them.

Another thing that irked her were the subtle comments Starscream would drop about her Autobot lineage. Yes, she was aware that Megatron had found her on Autobot territory, and yes, she was aware that she had once had an Autobot carrier and sire. But she was also aware that it had been Megatron who had pulled her from the rubble and and held her close to his spark. It had been that uncharacteristic act of kindness that had saved her, and possibly saved Cybertron as well.

So yes, Starscream liked to use whatever leverage he thought he had, but he had come to realize that he had no leverage on her. Revealing to everyone that she was the Heir would earn him a blaster bolt in the helm by either Soundwave or Megatron, depending on who could shoot the fastest.

Her money was on Megatron.

She let out a huff as she stepped onto the ledge to reach the hook that was just out of her reach. She cursed her shortness once more as she stretched to reach the hook, a satisfying 'click' causing her to let out a sigh of relief. She dared not look down to the open plains below her as the wind tugged at her. Heights did not frighten her, but she knew full well what she was doing was foolish, as she had no safety harness should she slip and fall.

After hours of work and dashing around, she surveyed her work with a satisfied nod, a small smile on her face. Yes, she was confident Bumblebee would be busy with the activities she had planned out. He wanted to be entertained, so she got her entertainment all ready.

She just hoped Bee wasn't terrified of heights.

* * *

Bumblebee whistled as he glanced at the notes in his servos. "Yesh, that's a lot of records."

Red Alert laughed. "Yes, they are. You'd be surprised the amount of junk Ratchet sends me." Her optics twinkled. "Too bad he's not going with you to Kaon. I'll be stuck with the grumpy old medic as my company."

Bumblebee frowned. "You are not coming with us?" he asked.

She shook her helm. "No, I am staying here in Iacon to keep an optic on things." She grinned. "Commander's orders."

During the war for Cybertron, Elita-One had an elite group of femmes that were still active even after the war. Chromia and Red Alert were one of the many femmes still a part of that group, and as Elita-One was going to Kaon with the Selected Autobots, Bumblebee had assumed that Red Alert would follow her Commander as well. Optimus was staying in Iacon while Elita oversaw the events in Kaon, and Chromia was going as well to assist.

"But it will give me some time to sort through some personal problems," Red Alert continued. "I actually opted to stay behind."

It was in that moment that his optics were drawn to a certain object on her shelf. "This is new," he said, pointing to the orange, glass flower.

Red Alert smiled. "Yes, it is," she said softly.

Bumblebee frowned as he stared at the delicate work of art. "Is that your reason for staying behind?"

Red Alert frowned. "I need to focus on taking care of myself first before dealing with anything else. I need to sort out what I am going through." She sighed, placing the datapads down and leaning heavily into her desk a she gripped the edge. "A lot happened between us during the war. Trust was broken, and I felt...I felt betrayed. But there were moments when I dared to believe that not all was lost, and it left me delusioned." She looked up, staring at nothing as she got lost in her memories. "I never stopped loving him, and I acknowledged that, but I also knew that I had to look out for myself." She looked at Bumblebee. "Taking down those barriers and healing the wounds we both inflicted on each other is going to take time." She smiled as she gazed at the glass object. "But this shows that he is willing to reach out and make an effort to restart what we once had. I am more then willing to meet him there."

Bumblebee smiled as he stared at her. "Good for you," he said softly.

"Life is short," she continued. "I would rather have another try at love, rather than lying on my death bed wondering what I could have done differently."

He stared at her before looking back down. "Right," he said softly.

She looked up at him with a smile. "Don't you have to get ready for the trip?"

He shrugged. "I packed early, so I have some time to kill." He looked up with a faint smile. "I won't see this place for a while, and I want to make my rounds."

She grinned. "Oh Bumblebee, the documents will still be here in many numbers for you when you get back."

"That is why I am visiting the gardens and the race track before I leave," he said with a smirk as he slipped out of the room with a laugh.

Red Alert watched him leave, a faint smile on her face. She stared once more at the orange glass flower, another piece added to her growing collection. She could tell that a lot of care and effort had went into creating each and every piece, and she felt her spark pick up a bit every time she was reminded of who made them.

She loved, she truly did. She could still remember when she had been a young nurse, and he an ambitious mech that everyone regarded with wariness. She had been drawn in by his ideals and ambition, and they frequently created the time to be together. It had been enough for her.

Then she had received the glass flowers, and her femme friends and squealed over the idea of a secret admirer. But for her, the admirer was not so secret. She had known who it was the moment she saw the flower. What she couldn't photom was why someone would spend such tiring effort and time to create such a beauty for her.

He made her feel wanted and cherished. He made her feel emotions she had never felt before. And she had done the same with him. She had awakened his emotions, something he had assumed he had blocked off long ago.

She carefully opened one of the drawers in her desk and picked a small object out of the drawer with delicate ease. Picking up a cloth, she gently wrapped the fragile object up, her smile faint as she was lost in memory.

A knock on her office door pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see Elita-One enter the room. The pink femme smiled at her friend. "Red Alert," Elita greeted.

Red Alert smiled, rising from her seat. "Commander," she said. "I have the reports ready for you."

Elita nodded. "I knew you would." She sighed as she examined the work Red Alert presented her with. "Primus, these things never end."

Red Alert grinned. "Might I suggest a break in your routine?"

Elita did not glance up. "A secret femme's night out sounds splendid, if only I did not have to leave today."

Red Alert suppressed a chuckle, feeling like a young femme once more. "When you get back, then." She took in a deep breath, catching her Commander's attention. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Elita-One cocke dher helm as Red Alert handed her the carefully wrapped object. "Will you deliver this for me?" she asked.

Elita smiled in understanding as she stared at the wrapped object. "Of course, Red Alert. You can count on me to see this through."

* * *

Bumblebee soon saw Moonracer up ahead, leaning against the wall with her helm down. The shadows around her cast a gloomy look over her form, and the apprehension on her face did little to ease that uncertain aura around her.

Bumblebee was once again reminded of how plagued Moonracer had looked before. He had not spoken with her after that, and it had been three days. But he had caught a glimpse of her in the courtyards just the other day. She had been walking with Mirage, and she seemed somewhat better, but still a little worried.

Bumblebee made his presence known by clearing his throat. Moonracer looked up, optics snapping to attention. He smiled brightly at her in an attempt to put her at ease, noting how stiff and worried she looked. "Hey Moony," he greeted happily, approaching her.

She relaxed somewhat, her folded arms slacking a bit. "Hey Bee," she said softly. "How've you been?"

He shrugged, leaning against the wall right next to her, their shoulders nearly touching. "Busy," he replied. "I'm all set for Kaon though. How about you?"

She glanced down. "Yeah, I'm set for Kaon as well." She avoided his gaze though, and he noticed how she let out a shuddering breath, as if she was about to break down and lose control of her emotions.

He tried not to show his sudden alarm, and he hoped such a reaction was not clear on his face. "Moony," he started, a note of worry escaping into his tone, much to his annoyance. "What is it?"

She swallowed. "Bee, nothing...nothing will change, right?"

He blinked. "After the Selection? No, nothing will change," he promised. "Nothing can change our friendship. You've been my closest friend, Moonracer, and I could never see myself ruining that."

He did not see the rueful smile on her face. "Even if...something were to drastically change?" she asked.

He tilted his helm, feeling his spark thud painfully. He felt woefully unprepared, like he was heading into battle without weapons. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Have you ever considered dropping out?" she asked suddenly.

He paused for a moment. "Um, not until recently," he confessed. "But, to be honest, I do not think I have the strength to make such a drastic decision."

"So what does that mean for me?" he heard her whisper faintly.

It suddenly clicked for him. He stared down at her, grateful that she could not see the shock on his face as she avoided his gaze. "Are...are you considering dropping out?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

She shifted a bit, but her silence was all the answer he needed.

He took in a deep breath, feeling the shock ebb away ever so slightly, but it was still there as he found himself faced with uncertainty. "May I ask why?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound acusseing.

She swallowed, finally looking up at him with determination alight in her optics. "I found someone, Bee. I found someone who I want to be my sparkmate. I cannot ignore it anymore, I cannot lie to myself what I feel, or what we have." She took in a deep breath. "Nor can I ignore the future we could possibly build together."

He tried to calm himself down, to think logically as he stared at his friend. Thrust in the face with this revelation, he could barely gather his thoughts together to make sense of it all. "Are...are you even sure he's not using you?" he found himself asking. He then winced, knowing how bad that sounded.

Her optics hardened. "He hardly needs to use anyone, Bee," she said scathingly. "And yes, I am certain he is not using me." She looked away. "We have known eachother for years, but I never...we never thought that things would turn out like this."

Bumblebee desperately wanted to do something, anything to get this pent up energy out of his system. He felt a sting of betrayal as her words finally reached him. Years? She had known this mech for years and she had not told him? Did Moonracer not trust him with such information?

Arcee suddenly came to mind, and he felt a sting of guilt. He had not told anyone about his feelings, he had not confided in anyone like Moonracer was confiding in him now. So who was he to stay angry and feel betrayal? Was he not doing the same thing to her?

"So he feels the same?" he asked softly, pushing past his raging emotions.

She smiled once more, her whole exterior lighting up. "Yes," she said. "Yes, he does." She wrapped her arms around herself. "At first, he pushed me away, afraid that I would lose my inheritance. He even told me not to drop out, as he knows how much I love politics." She grinned. "But if I can have him as my sparkmate, then I will gladly work for my position in the reformed Cybertronian government."

"I do not think you need to worry about fighting tooth and nail for such a seat," he said, already working out plans to make such the effort easier for her in the Senate. "Does...does this mech of yours have a name?" he asked.

She looked up at him, unbelievable hope and joy in her optics as she gazed at him. Her expression was one of disbelief and relief, and he felt the twang of guilt again as he remembered that feeling of betrayal that had unrighteously wormed its way into his spark.

"Thank you, Bumblebee," she said, her voice a whisper. "Thank you." She closed her optics in relief. "I thought...I was worried that you would...you would be angry."

"It is not uncommon for others to step out of the Selection," Bumblebee said hurriedly. Best to not tell her how he really felt about this news. He did not want an outburst to ruin his friendship, like his outburst had nearly ruined his friendship with Arcee.

"But you felt betrayed," she noted quietly.

Primus, how was it that she could see right through him? Or was he really that easy to read? He was ready to outright deny it, to lie to her face and avoid what he saw as trouble, but he stopped. Moonracer was looking up at him with earnest optics, asking him for the truth. He let out a breath. "Yes, Moony, yes I did. But I have no right to feel like that," he confessed.

"I didn't tell you," she said softly

"Should you have?" he asked, rubbing the back of his helm in discomfort. "It was not my place to know, but I am...I am grateful that you told me." He stared at her. "Are you sure about this though? I'm worried, Moonracer. You don't know the possible outcomes."

"No one ever does," she said. "But am I going to abandon love and a possible future with the mech I want to share my life with, just because I am uncertain or because someone says it will not happen?" She shook her helm. "I found love, Bee. And yes, it is love that I feel," she stated at his surprised look. "I love him, and I will not let Optimus Prime, or anyone else decide my fate, or who I am to mate with. I know who I want, and I know who I deserve." Her optics narrowed. "I am willing to fight for the life that I want."

He swallowed, unfamiliar feelings rising up. "How can you be so sure?" he asked.

"I love him," she repeated. "Because I would do anything for him. He makes me happy, Bee. He really makes me happy." She smiled. "I never felt like that before. All I can think about is our future together and how he treats me. He is so awkward and confident, that it honestly just works for him." Her optics shone. "He...loves me enough to distance himself so that he does not ruin my life. But the only life I want is one with him."

She was choosing a life, a life she wanted. She was seizing the moment, an opportunity, and she was not letting it go. She had the courage to do so, to step out and declare to the world her decisions. The mech who she had chosen, was a lucky mech indeed to have such a strong femme.

"Can I at least meet him?" Bumblebee asked finally, thinking of this unknown mech whom he had just heard about.

She giggled, relaxed at once at his hopeful voice and guarded expression. "Later, I promise." She looked up at him and gently touched his face, before standing on the tips of her pedes to kiss his cheek softly. "Thank you, Bee," she said, her voice shaking, yet full of joy. "Thank you for being there for me, and for understanding." She stared into his optics. "I love you, and I hope you realize that. But I also want you to realize that you have a choice as well, and that you do not need to let your own opportunity slip you by." She gave him a grin, as if she knew a secret. "I see how you look at her, Bee, and I urge you to express your feelings to her before it's too late and doom yourself to regret your hesitation for the rest of your life. I have found my happiness, now I want you to find yours."

* * *

"You know what you have to do, right?" Sides asked.

Smokescreen rolled his optics, resisting the urge to growl. "Yes! You want me to keep an optic on our two lovebirds. Now let me go! I'm going to be late for the ship to Kaon!"

"Do you know what to do to create a romantic scenery?" Sunny asked worriedly, still gripping Smokescreens arm.

Smokescreen gave a firm tug, attempting to break free from the golden twin. "Yes! You two are making this love business much more complicated than what it really is!"

"Maybe we should book some tickets to Kaon," Sides said to his twin thoughtfully. "I do not think Smokey is ready for the next phase in his training. After all, it is only right that his masters of love accompany him."

Sunny nodded in agreement. "I believe you are right, brother."

"Let me go!" Smokescreen finally growled, a dangerous aura surrounding him as he glared menacingly at the Twins. "Now!"

* * *

It took Bumblebee a while to sort out his thoughts and emotions. The words that were spoken to him for the past few days came back at him, each with a different emotion. It took him a while to realize that what he was feeling was enviness towards Moonracer. She had the courage to step out and pursue her love, she had the insight to identify what she was feeling, she she felt so sure in what she felt.

He did not have such luxury.

Too much was riding on him to drop out of the Selection. He was the Heir and could not simply drop out! It didn't work that way for him.

But Moonracer was dead set on being a Senator with her mate at her side. He frowned thoughtfully. Could he not do the same? Could he not remain the Heir, but with his own mate of his own choosing by his side? After all, she was a Decepticon.

This was dangerous thinking, and he was aware of that. But it was an alluring thought, and one that he dwelled and boded on for a while.

"Hey," Smokescreen said, tapping him on the shoulder. "You alright?" he asked.

Bumblebee nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"You look like your brooding," the white mech commented.

"I am not brooding!" he defended. "Just...tired," he said. He glanced at Smokescreen with a raised optic ridge. The white mech had shown up in a mad dash at the ship, a bit late for docking, but he would not tell anyone what had delayed him. Bumblebee did not ask when he took one look at Smokescreens flustered and still angry appearance.

Smokescreen nodded and sat back while Moonracer glanced at him worriedly. He knew what she was thinking, and how she was possibly wondering if his sudden attitude had anything to do with her. In a way, she was right, but just not in the way she was thinking.

He slumped in his seat, not ready to face the awaiting crowd in Kaon.

When they landed, a large crowd was waiting for them, just as he had predicted. Megatron was at the front of the group with his own selected senators and with the Selected Decepticons behind him. The Decepticon leader looked intimidating, demanding strength from where he stood, his crimson optics gleaming. Elita-One strode forward, helm held high as she greeted the Decepticon leader, ever the diplomat. The two standing together created quite the contrast, yet they both radiated awe and splendor with their presence.

Bumblebee's gaze was drawn to a certain, petite blue femme who was standing rigidly in the crowd. He looked away, hoping his face revealed nothing that he wished to hide.

Soon, the crowds dispersed and Bumblebee found himself stumbling to make sense of where he was in the jostling crowd. He should not be losing his composer now! Why was this happening? Was it because she was here now and his thoughts were scrambled because of that? He stopped suddenly when he found himself gazing into the bright optics of the femme of his thoughts, and everything came to a halt for him.

She smiled warmly at him. "So happy you could come, Bumblebee," she greeted.

He found himself smiling, resisting the urge to embrace her and hold her close. But it was harder to resist glaring at the mechs who stared at Arcee a bit longer than necessary. So instead, he focused on her, and how his spark picked up that now normal speed that made him feel warm and alive. "So happy to be here," he responded.


	21. Chapter 20

Elita-One strode into the dark room, optics alight as she caught sight of the mech she was searching for. He was hunched over his work, one optic staring intensly at his projects, clawed servos occasionally twitching as if he was already getting ready for his next experiment.

"Shockwave," she greeted as she strode toward him, steps deliberate as she stopped in front of his desk. "It is a pleasure to see you."

"Commander Elita-One," he said simply.

Elita-One let it slide simply as she held out the carefully wrapped object in her servo. "I have a delivery for you," she said. "From a mutual friend we both share."

"Odd that you and I would associate with the same folk," he commented emotionlessly, gingerly taking the object she had to offer.

"Not odd," she said. "Just rare." She nodded politely. "I am extending this to you on behalf of my friend; is there anything you would like me to deliver to her?"

Shockwave was oddly silent for a moment as his one optic focused on the wrapped object. "No," he said, his tone not changing. "There is nothing else that I can send."

She nodded. "Very well." She cocked her helm. "Good day, Shockwave."

"Good day, Commander," he said, though she was almost out of the room that she had barely heard it, but it was enough to make her pause.

Yes, there were many things she would do for her friend, even when she herself retained some misgivings on the situation. She had presented her case to Red Alert, made her worries known. Now, she would step back and remain by her friend's side and offer support. But, she would be standing with a blaster in her servo if she needed to end a certain scientists life.

* * *

The ledge was very simple and overlooked the large valley below with jagged rocks poking out of the grounds surface. A little path could be seen carved from the jagged rocks, allowing civilians to stroll and admire the eerie, yet enticing landscape. If one squinted, one could see another building not too far ahead. The two buildings situated in the valley had nothing in common, aside from the thin metal wire connecting the two from the balcony. It was that thin, metal wire that was specifically designed for sports such as mountain climbing, or ziplining. While the wire looked dainty and fragile, experts in such an activity could say that it was sturdy and safe if one knew what they were doing.

Bumblebee was no such expert.

"This is your idea of fun?" Bumblebee demanded, aghast.

Arcee couldn't help but smirk. "Why? Don't tell me you're afraid of heights! Do you know how long it took me to set this up?"

He blinked. "You didn't have to set it up for me," he said.

"Oh, I didn't," she assured him. "I've always had this set up. But someone keeps taking it down."

He hummed thoughtfully. "So you enjoy ziplining?"

"Always have," she answered. "But I used to get in trouble a lot when I was a sparkling. My guardians hated it all the time."

Interest sparked in Bumblebee's optics as he cocked his helm. "Interesting," he murmured. "So, where are the safety harnesses?"

She smirked. "No safety harness," she said. She laughed at Bumblebee's startled look. "Relax Bee," she said, holding up two harnesses. "I'm not careless."

"Uh huh," he muttered, looking down. "And you've done this before?"

"Yes," she sighed. "What? You've never done anything like this?"

"I have done plenty of crazy things," he defended. "But ziplining over jagged rocks with an amaturs touch is not my idea of fun."

She smirked. "Shut up and let me hook you up."

Bumblebee tried not to notice how her servos felt on his armor when she helped hook him up with the safety, and he cursed his shaky servos as he clenched them at his side. However, Arcee noticed. "You alright?" she asked, frowning in concern.

"Just excited," he confessed quickly. "So, where does this zipline take us?" he asked.

She smiled, leaping onto the balcony. "You will have to wait and see." With that, she smirked at him and zipped off.

Bumblebee swallowed, before a thrill of excitement surged through him. He grabbed the zipline before zooming after her, the sudden drop causing him to let out a yell of excitement. The wind tugged on him as he increased speed. A smile bloomed on his face as he let out a happy whoop of joy, laughing all the way as the exhilaration hit him hard.

The zipline kept going, maintaining speed. It barely registered in his mind that Arcee had been the one to set this up, that she had been ziplining since she was a sparkling.

Who else did he know who liked ziplining as a sparkling? It was in the back of his mind, yet he could not remember for the life of him.

His thoughts came to an abrupt stop when he noticed that he was coming up on the landing platform. He grinned, touching down right next to Arcee who was smiling brightly, her entire face lighting up with the thrill of sharing this with someone.

"How was that?" she asked, breathless.

He laughed. "Amazing! I just might stick around a bit longer."

She rolled her optics playfully. "That was the point," she said. "Wait till you see the next one," she said.

He blinked. "Wait, there's a next one?"

She laughed. "You didn't think we were going to have to climb down the platform right?"

He glanced down, realizing that there would be no getting down the platform anyway. He closed his optic and tried to not think about how high up he was, and that it was just him and Arcee. A quick glance at her proved to be his mistake, as he noticed how focused she was in working on the harness of the zipline. Her optics were narrowed in concentration and her servos worked with practiced ease. She was in her element, ruthlessly attending to what she enjoyed.

Moonracer was willing to step out of the Selection for a mech she truly loved. She was not willing to miss out on such an amazing chance of love. She was willing to reach out for her love.

He imagined a life with her, a life with the femme standing right in front of him. He thought of how he felt when she laughed or smiled his way, and how his spark was filled with warmth at the thought of bringing her joy.

It was by chance that he had met her, a pure and simple chance that they had crossed paths at the Hut. But he had found her, even when he wasn't looking. When he looked at her, she broke through his confusion and frantic thoughts Falling in love was something he would never have imagined happening.

He had long accepted the fact that he had feelings for her, for this talented, amazing femme who made his spark pick up speed. It was the constant, tiring debate on how and if he should make his feelings known to her. What if she did not feel the same as he? What if he ruined what they had because he misinterpreted anything?

"You seem to be attracted to danger," he commented.

"I'm attracted to many things," she said simply, optics alright with that familiar spark that made him smile. "The unknown, the forbidden," she listed off. "It's all so alluring. I know what I want, and I know how to obtain it."

He hummed thoughtfully, rocking back and forth on his pedes as he got ready for the next zipline. "I am not surprised," he said.

"Oh?" she asked, glancing at him. "Why not?"

He shrugged. "Uncertainty does not seem to suit you. You're always so driven, so clear headed. You know what to do, and you set yourself on straight paths." He risked another glance at her. "It's one of the things I like about you."

Because he was so focused on working the zipline, he did not see Arcee staring at him with open thoughtfulness. "Bee," she said suddenly. "What do you think of the Decepticon Heir?"

He paused, finally looking at her. "The Decepticon Heir?" he frowned. "Well, not much is known about her. We know she's involved with Megatron, and works behind the scenes of the Council. I know for a fact that Optimus Prime and Elita-One have met her, and that they approve of her. If she's got their approval, then she can't be as bad as some make her out to be." Which was entirely different with him. He was unsure what Megatron thought of him as the Autobot Heir. Half the time, he didn't know if Megatron approved or disapproved of him. It made him wonder what kind of femme the Decepticon warlord had raised.

"But what do you think of her?" Arcee asked.

Bumblebee hesitated. "I kind of worked her out in my mind as this levelheaded femme who doesn't take scrap from others: a tough, stern femme who is headstrong, and would lead Cybertron with a firm servo." He shrugged. "There's not much to go on, as there isn't enough solid information." He grinned. "But, there are rumors that she's as tall as Megatron with the deep, jagged armor and crimson optics."

Arcee raised a dubious optic ridge. "Crimson optics?"

"With the energon coated fangs," he quipped teasingly.

She groaned suddenly, banging her helm against the pole. "Ridiculous," she muttered. "Utterly ridiculous."

He shrugged as he gripped the zipline, testing it out. "Well," he said, glancing down. "I used to wonder about her, she has been on my mind a lot." He looked up. "But recently, the Decepticon Heir hasn't crossed my mind at all."

Arcee cocked her helm. "Oh?"

"I've been thinking about someone else," he said quietly. "Someone who has taken up my thoughts." He looked away with a deep breath. "Anyway," he said quickly with a smirk. "The rumors of the Decepticon Heir does make you wonder about her. Just like the rumors of the Autobot Heir."

Arcee smirked and approached him, causing him to look into her optics, his servos still held tightly on the zipline. His smirk did not leave his face as he wondered what kind of verbal comeback she had prepared for him.

Instead, she lightly placed her servo over his spark chamber, the warmth of his spark reaching out as it suddenly picked up speed at her close proximity. He could not step back, as there was an open ledge behind him. He was forced to stand still as she leaned in closer, his optics wide as his spark picked up speed.

"Yes," she whispered deeply, optics intense as she stared into his. "One has to wonder." Then she pushed him off the ledge and he was forced to hold onto the zipline as he zipped away.

* * *

Arcee breathed in deeply, shocked at how bold she had acted. She stared at her servo where it had only just recently rested over Bumblebee's spark chamber. She had felt its warmth, felt her own spark reach out to his. She had not known what had possessed her to do such a thing. Yes, she often reacted without thinking when her emotions were running high. But didn't everyone? Still, this act left her shaken, and she knew why.

A partner. She wanted a partner in a mate, not some stranger who did not understand her. She wanted a selfless mech, one who was loyal and who already had her trust.

Patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness; those were the few of many traits that could easily describe Bumblebee. He was also funny, energetic, loyal, and confident. She suddenly thought about meeting her future mate, and she saw Bumblebee. She saw him smiling at her, his honest optics wide as he gazed at her. She remembered when they had danced, and how he had apologized for his actions as he tried to make amends.

Her spark felt like it was going to burst at the very thought of him. She quickly grabbed the zipline and leaped off the ledge, zooming after Bumblebee. Her thoughts and feelings flew faster than her as her resolve grew steely.

Yes, she was a Decepticon, and Megatron had compared her to a predacon who went after its treasure. At that moment, flying freely with the sudden revelation of what she was going to do, she truly felt like a predacon.

He was still smiling when she landed on the ground, the zipline finally coming to an end on a path. She knew fairly well that this path would lead to the middle of the city, and she planned on showing him his way around. But all she could focus on was his smile.

She could only stare as he spoke of the zipline and how he was never doing such a death-defying feat if his life depended on it. Such words brought a small smile to her face, because despite what he said, she knew he was joking and aching to try it again.

They were silent as they removed and carried the harnesses up the path. She noticed how Bumblebee's joyful smile seemed to fade and grow more thoughtful. She took in a deep breath, wondering what she should do. She gave a small start when she felt Bumblebee's servo slip into hers, and she looked down at their joined servos, then back up into Bumblebee's optics as they walked.

"Arcee," he started. "I know you have...plans for the Selection; plans for a future, and a stable one at that. You have dreams that you want to achieve." He hesitated. "But would you consider a different life? A life outside of the Selection? Would you consider the future we talked about; the pilot and the teacher?"

Out of nervousness, she felt Bumblebee's grip on her servo tighten. She pulled away, turning her helm away to hide her expression from him.

"I've been questioning a lot of things," he said. "Mainly with the Selection. I have developed...new feelings that I could not identify until...later. I thought I was confused," he said. "I thought it was all in my helm, and that I would hurt you and ruin everything if I let this...these feelings go on. I thought ignoring what I felt would make it go away." He shook his helm. "But, in reality, it only grew stronger when I wasn't paying attention."

He swallowed, unsure what to do as her back remained turned to him, her servos shaking. "Arcee," he said helplessly, hating himself for not knowing what to do. "Arcee," he repeated, her name precious to him as he said it.

He never got to finish. He noticed the change in her stance and how she went rigged. She swung around with sudden speed that took him by surprise as he stumbled back. She grabbed him roughly before pulling him closer to her. She placed a servo on the back of his helm before bringing him into a kiss.

His optics widened as she stiffened up, but she did not end the kiss. His servos found their way to her waist, and he closed his optics as he returned her kiss. They both relaxed, Arcee's grip loosening, but still refusing to let go of him.

He did not want her to let go anyway.

Finally, they broke apart, but his servos were still on her waist, and she had her servos on his shoulder. They rested their foreheads against each other, breathing deeply as one action spoke a thousand words to the both of them.

"Bee," she said, optics clear where fear and uncertainty had resided before.

He just smiled at her, feeling a sense of relief. "Hey Arcee." He then kissed her again, catching her by surprise.

Yes, he knew what he wanted, and he was already planning on how to make his future happen.

She had been fueled by a sudden surge of emotion. The thought of losing Bumblebee to someone else, all because she did not react in time had scared her more than anything else. She refused to let him slip away without letting him know how she felt first. She had to let him know, she could not carry this unsaid feeling around forever.

She hadn't thought it through. Kissing him had only been an impulse. But it had been the right impulse, one she had feared she would regret.

But she didn't, she found that she did not regret it at all.


	22. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: Thank you readers for reviewing and sticking with me on this story! Now, while you read and hopefully enjoy this update, I am going to bed. This chapter had me staying up later then I thought.**

* * *

Servos clasped together as they made their way down the bustling street, Bumblebee and Arcee were in no hurry to go anywhere. They had no clear destination in mind as they walked. Both were just content with in the honest moment. There were no secrets, no hidden feelings. While this revelation was new to the both of them, it certainly felt much better once it was all out in the open.

With one action had come a confession. With one confession, many burdens were released and caste aside to the wind.

No one knew who they were here in the bustling town. No one here could call them out for breaking the rules of the Selection. It was just the two of them in the peaceful moment. Just two normal, regular citizens of Cybertron enjoying the outside world of the everyday life.

Bumblebee smiled when he felt Arcee lean into him, marvelling at how she seemed to fit in his arms, like she belonged there. She looked up, catching his smile.

She blinked. "What?"

His smile just grew as he placed a kiss on her helm. "Nothing," he said simply.

She tilted her helm up at him with a small grin. "You missed," she said teasingly.

He felt his faceplates heat up at the thought of kissing her again. "I guess I'll have to practice with my aim," he said with a nervous grin.

She laughed, playfully jabbing his side. "You're cute," she said. "Don't ever change."

"Seeing as my current personality is what won you over," he mused. "No, I don't think I will change."

They found a small spot in a courtyard where many other folk stopped to socialize. They both sat down on a bench that overlooked many of the shops and busy citizens. Bumblebee's arm remained around Arcee who was snuggled against his side. They just watched other Cybertronians mingle about, both relaxed and at ease in each others presence.

"Why were we such idiots?" Arcee questioned suddenly. "Why did we put ourselves through so much grief?"

"I think it was because we were not ready to confront what we were feeling," he said, musing thoughtfully. "I do not think we were aware of the possibilities and how to approach or address what we were feeling. We had to be honest with ourselves before we could be honest with each other. Admitting what we felt was a first step." He hesitated. "Truth be told," he confessed. "I was also a bit scared."

Arcee smirked, though he could not see her expression as se observed the bustling people. "Oh? Did I terrify you?"

"You are one of the few femmes who has actually made my spark go still with fear," he stated with a grin. "You made me confused, so all this grief I was feeling was all your fault."

"Sure, because I could tell you were really upset with the outcomes of all that 'grief' that brought you to this moment," she commented dryly.

No, he was not upset with the outcomes at all. In fact, if he could freeze this moment and stay like this forever with her at his side, he would. But he could not. He would have to face Optimus Prime and the senators. He would have to state his case and present his terms. Yes, he would remain the Autobot Heir; he had no choice. He would fulfill his duties as an Autobot and one who was striving for peace. Yes, he would remain open to an alliance with the Decepticons. But he would do it all with his chosen mate at his side. No exceptions whatsoever.

He was not looking forward to such a confrontation with the Prime and others, but he knew it would come eventually. He would have to prepare, and remain clear headed and reasonable. He could feel a brief moment of panic build in his spark, but the femme at his side reminded him of why he was taking such actions in the first place.

Music started up in the courtyard, a playful tune reaching his audio receptors. He smiled as he saw a few couples dancing to the upbeat melody, a few sires and carriers even dancing with their young sparklings. Laughter and smiles were on everyone's faces. Stolen glances were shared among couples as the free Cybertron teemed with a hesitant, new life.

Bumblebee stood up, dragging Arcee with him. "Come on," he encouraged with a smile. "It'll be fun."

She blinked as she stumbled into his arms, holding onto him as they followed the beat of the music. She looked up at him with a small smile, her stance relaxing as the alertness left her optics. Was she suspecting of being caught? By whom? Who would catch them? No one would find them out here, of that he was sure.

He enjoyed the feeling her of in his arms as they danced, a more relaxed and playful movement between them as they followed the beat. There was no one to judge them, no one to observe and prevent them from expressing their feelings. It might as well have just been Bumblebee and Arcee here in the courtyard, two young Cybertronians as a couple who were enjoying a dance. A young couple with no burdens and responsibilities.

Arcee tugged at his servo as the beat picked up once more. Soon, she was leading in the dance, a joyful smile on her face. He laughed as they followed the tune to the music as he spun her around in his arms, hearing her laughter fill his audio receptors. The crowd of dancers increased around them as they danced, yet he only had optics for the femme in his arms.

The last time they had danced, she had given him hope with her talk of a possible future with him as the pilot, and her the assassin turned teacher. Such a possibility of a normal future was enticing to him, and it had filled him with hope then. It still did now. That hope and future was in his arms, if only he would hold on and fight for it. He was willing to make the necessary sacrifices. Arcee was worth it, everything about her was worth it.

Meeting her had been a complete chance, but befriending her had been so easy for him. Yet falling in love, that was something he had never anticipated.

He looked at her, unwilling to break the moment he had with her, unwilling to shatter it.

"Arcee," he started, feeling the truth of who he was coming out. There was so much to tell her. So much to confess. "I am going to speak with Optimus, and I want to tell him about...about us. But I also need to tell you that-"

He was cut off when she kissed him fiercely, silencing him and cutting off the truth that he was willing to share. Not rejecting her kiss, he returned it, opening his optics when she pulled back. He stared at her, blinking his optics.

"Not now," she pleaded, placing her helm on his chassis. "Please. I'm not ready to deal with Megatron, Optimus Prime, or any Selection talk. Not now, and certainly not with this moment I have with you." She looked back up at him. "They can wait. They have all the time in the world."

He could feel the truth he wanted to share with her slowly ebb away, and he felt a helplessness fill him, but he merely nodded his helm. "Alright," he said, holding her servo. He did not like the hidden secrets, it felt like a barrier that he alone could see. But he would respect her wishes and wait.

He would dwell on his choice later when he was alone, and he would wonder what the best course of action was. Yet, in the dark and alone in his berth room, he was certain of his steps in moving forward. He would confess to Optimus Prime and Elita-One of what he felt and what he had done, he knew what to say, just as sure as he knew what future he wanted.

* * *

To Arcee, the truth that she was hiding was not merely a barrier between them, but a chasm. But it was one she was willing to cross, it was one she was going to overcome.

She clenched her servo, still feeling Bumblebee's large servo holding hers. If she closed her optics, she would be transported back to that courtyard when he had held her close as they had danced. It hadn't been like their first dance when they had been so uncertain and dared to even hope for something different in their lives. In the courtyard, he had held her close, and they never stopped staring into each other's optics. She had not noticed how his optics were such a different blue. They were unique and stood out, just like he did. Only she could identify what set him apart and understand how she felt whenever he would look at her with his open and honest gaze.

She strode down the halls, reading the articles before her with a tired sigh. Most of her downtime was spent with Bumblebee not as they would journey to the town together. Giving Ark the slip had been something she had mastered a long time ago, and she had felt confident that no one could track her. She enjoyed those moments of peace, spending time with Bumblebee and letting him hold her close. He was so easy to tease and pull into her adventures.

She had been very pleased when she got him to zipline again. It had not been hard, as he had been eager to zipline again. His optics had lit up with a challenge, and it soon became a race between the two of them, a competition of some sorts.

"Loser has to carry all the equipment," he had called out as he got ready for the zipline.

"You don't want to challenge me," she had said with a smirk.

"Bring it on Cee, bring it on," he had challenged with a smirk. "Bring it on."

He had won, and his laughter as they had both crashed into each other filled her audio receptors.

"You cheated," she had moaned. She then let out a startled gasp when he quickly kissed her, pulling back before she could recover.

"You get to carry the equipment!" he had said with a laugh, scrambling up as she chased after him with an enraged yell, promising her revenge.

She grinned at the memory, the words on the reports she was holding blurring together as she got lost in thought. She absent mindedly flipped through the articles before freezing in her tracks, optics wide as she looked at what she was holding.

It was an image of a courtyard, taken a few days ago.

In that image was mech and femme, dancing with the other couples in the courtyard. The mech and femme were smiling and holding each other close, obviously more than just friends in the image.

But what caught her attention was the identity of the mech and femme, the happy couple who was unaware then of the spy watching them.

The mech and femme was her and Bumblebee.

"Ah, Arcee," a voice in the hallway said, causing her to look up at Starscream who was leaning against a column with his arms folded, as if he had been waiting for her. "I see you received my report that I had slipped into your office. Quite interesting, is it not?"

Her expression turned icey as she stared at the seeker. If he had slipped this into her office, then he wanted her to see it, he wanted her to know he had the upper hand in this.

"But I cannot take all the credit," he continued in a poor attempt at remaining humble. "After all, I could not have acquired the images you see before you without Soundwave's help. Nothing can be hidden from a mech like him.

A stab of betrayal pierced through her. Soundwave had been the one to take the images? She understood that Starscream outranked Soundwave, but could he not have done something else other than informing the slimy seeker?

But after all, she realized, Soundwave was loyal to no one but Megatron, and her actions would be seen as a betrayal to Megatron himself. That was something a mech like Soundwave would not tolerate.

But that did not lessen the sting of betrayal Arcee herself was feeling.

"I do wonder what such a impact these scandalous images would have on the Selection," Starscream mused.

She scoffed, a picture of indifference sliding into place. "Oh please, Starscream," she said. "These are hardly scandalous." She raised an optic ridge. "Or perhaps you were hoping for something more." She tilted her helm up. "Maybe you should stop looking for leverage that does not exist."

His cocky arrogance did not waver in the slightest as he smirked. "Oh, but I do think these images will bring me the results I need."

Images. So there was more than what she held in her servos. Of course there was. Her spark dropped, but all she could focus on was Starscream and his threats. She pushed the betrayal she was feeling about Soundwave out of sight and mind, reining in her emotions as a cold fury filled her.

Starscream dared to interfere with her personal life. He dared to threaten her with the very moments she held dear.

He dared to threaten Bumblebee.

Her optics narrowed as the cold fury suddenly made way for an icy torrent as she turned to level her stare at Starscream. She would not let him have the upper hand. She refused to let him take this from her. She refused to let him take something precious, and turn it into her downfall.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Starscream," she said, striding past him. But not before she dropped the image into his grasp. "I have matters to deal with," she said simply.

She was always able to think on her pedes. When a situation presented itself, she was able to think fast and come up with the most logical solution. She could maintain a clear and focused helm and a strong will.

She would not lose her composure now. She was not going to let panic fill her.

Panic was the least she was feeling now, though. What she was feeling was an icy calmness as her steps determinedly carried her to her destination.

As she strode down the hall, she had one goal in mind; to beat Starscream to Megatron and hope she was not too late in informing him of what had transpired. She would hate to have Starscream be the one to drop what could be a bombshell on Megatron. If anyone was going to inform the Decepticon leader of Bumblebee and herself, it was going to be her.

She was the Decepticon Heir, she would not lose this.

These thoughts filled her as she rested a servo on the access codes. The doors to Megatron's private office slid open, and she beheld the former warlord ss he stood before her, his silver armor gleaming in the dim light if the room.

He turned his red optics on her, regarding her with a blank expression.

"Lord Megatron," she said. "I believe there are matters we need to discuss."

His mouth curled into a grin, exposing his fangs as his red optics glimmered. "Yes, I believe we do."


	23. Chapter 22

Bumblebee looked up with a frown, noting the darkening clouds forming in the sky. His steps slowed, but he did not come to a complete stop as he did not want to hold up the others that were behind him. Selected Autobots and a handful of Selected Decepticons were in the group with him in the field, all being led by a senior Decepticon officer.

"Now," the Decepticon officer announced, coming to a halt. "Here the hunt will take place, and we have a superior officer to thank for this experience and the organization of this entertaining event."

"Which superior officer was that?" Smokescreen muttered, the white mech standing next to Bumblebee.

"Sentinel," Bumblebee replied automatically. He already new all the senior officers by name and could recognize them by faces, so the response came to him rather quickly.

"Though it confuses me as to why a superior Autobot officer would partake in a Decepticon matter," Firestar commented, folding her arms as she tilted her helm.

Bumblebee frowned at her comment. He was not willing to tell Firestar, or anyone for that matter, that Sentinel had been under suspicion for treason against the Autobots during the war for Cybertron. Though investigations had gone underway, Megatron still refused to release the names of his double agents, just as Optimus was withholding the names of the Autobot spies. So a grudging understanding had been made between the two leaders in order to allow the agents to have a chance at a new life, just as everyone else on the planet. But Bumblebee knew full well that all double agents on both sides were watched crucially. Traitors were always watched with wary optics.

"It does not look like this hunt will last long," Firestar commented, looking up at the darkening sky with a small frown.

"Want to bet that it is acid rain?" Smokescreen grinned.

"What else would it be?" Firestar asked with a quirked optic ridge.

His grin grew wider, and Bumblebee recognized the sudden challenge in his friend's optics. "Fine, then want to bet that I can shoot more turbofoxes then you before the rain hits?"

"If you shoot as bad as you place bets, then I think I've got this," Firestar said. She holstered her gun. "However, I refuse to partake in such a childish bet with you on the matter. I have enough to worry about as it is."

Smokescreen shrugged before turning to look at his yellow companion. "Hey, Bee, you alright?"

Bumblebee looked at the white mech. "Huh, yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

Smokescreen stared at him before shrugging. "I don't know. You just seem out of it."

"I do not particularly like hunting turbofoxes," Bumblebee admitted. "It seems pointless." While that was partially true, he was mainly thinking about Arcee. He hadn't seen her join the hunt, and he hadn't heard from her in a while. But he was also dwelling on how to approach Optimus Prime about his relationship with Arcee.

The road to the future was uncertain. In fact, it hadn't even occurred to him that he and Arcee might not even continue with a relationship that would make them sparkmates, even though that was what he wanted. It was all new to him, but he did know one thing, he was pursuing Arcee in the hopes that she would be his future sparkmate. After all, that was the whole point of having a relationship in the first place.

He still felt worried about approaching Optimus. Could the Prime order him to still go through with the Selection? And if he did, what would Bumblebee do then? Could he defy the Prime and still stay loyal to his duties of governing Cybertron? He had never seen Optimus truly enraged, but there were those who spoke of Optimus's uncharacteristic moments of anger during the war. Such tragic events would trigger an emotion; the death of a comrade, a loss in battle, a fallen city. Would the sudden defiance of the Autobot Heir trigger that? Would Bumblebee witness such anger?

What of Arcee? How would she react to him being an Heir? Knowing her, she would not be pleased that he had kept something so important from her. But he hoped that she would see his reasoning behind it and understand his actions.

Somehow, he knew Optimus would be mostly disappointed with him, then angry. But it was the disappointment that he feared.

He shouldered his gun with a sigh, giving Smokescreen a small grin. "It'll be fine, Smokes. Let's get going before the officers decide to send us back to the city."

Smokescreen watched his friend thoughtfully as Bumblebee jogged ahead. He frowned, thinking deeply on what was possibly weighing the yellow mech down.

Was it about Arcee? If the Twins were right, how exactly should Smokescreen handle such a situation?

Should he try to convince Bumblebee to abandon such a hopeless pursuit? Should he warn him about the recklessness of it all?

But then again, who was he to get in the way of Bumblebee and Arcee? Who was he to tell them how to feel? He had no right to forbid them from identifying their feelings. And if he should try to sabotage this attraction that was blooming between the two, then he would be no worse the the scum that lived in the Pits of Kaon.

He felt guilty for even entertaining such a thought. Such an action would harm Bumblebee and damage the friendship he had with the yellow mech.

He had known Bumblebee at such a young age, and there was something that just drew Smokescreen in. Bumblebee was friendly and outgoing, a smile on his face at all times. They trusted each other and always got into mischief as younglings, and even bigger trouble as gown mechs.

No, he would not destroy such a friendship that had been built for years. Such damage could never be repaired, and he would not betray Bumblebee's trust.

All he would do was offer his support and insight, not that he knew much about love in the first place, but he would do what he must.

He frowned, recalling the Twins words and encouragements. Their outlandish ideas seemed pointless, and he knew he could never pull off creating a romantic atmosphere.

No, he would do things his own way. He would help Bumblebee and Arcee out, the Smokescreen way.

* * *

Arcee braced herself for the impact of harsh words. She was expecting two things that would fit with Megatron's attitude in such a situation. One was a fit of rage, but it would start off as silence before erupting into harsh yelling and something being thrown, possibly broken. The second was the deadly silence, but she was leaning more towards the outburst.

She could only stare at the images on the desk in front of her, optics never leaving them as her spark sank. She knew she was caught, she knew it would only spell as trouble for both her and Bumblebee.

But she also knew that she could not back down. Too much rode on this. She would own up to her actions, but she would not acknowledge them as a mistake.

"Starscream already filled me in," Megatron said simply, his tone natural and casual.

"No doubt with the aid of Soundwave," she couldn't help but bite out, the sting of betrayal all too fresh for her.

"Soundwave reports to me, Arcee," Megatron said simply. "You would do well to remember that. He remains loyal to me, and only to me." He raised an optic ridge. "I do not think I need to remind you what we have been through during the war, and how it it hard to break such devotion."

"Of course not," she said dully.

He leaned back. "Good," he said. "Now, about this Autobot mech."

"He is a member of the Selection," she said. "He is loyal to his Prime and is a formidable soldier with a clear helm on his shoulders. His academic skills are higher than most." She finally looked up into Megatron's red optics. "But, you already knew that."

"I knew that," he agreed. "And more." He folded his arms. "What I would like to know is how you could be so careless."

"I have presented my terms," she said with narrowed optics. "I clearly explained the situation to you, and have made you aware that I will not abandon my duties to the Decepticons, and as your Heir."

"If what you say is true regarding your duties," he said. "Then you would not have gone this far with this mech."

"I will agree to govern Cybertron on my terms and my terms alone," she said. "You know full well that I am loyal and will do all that I can to lead Cybertron. But I will do it with my chosen mate. Bumblebee is an Autobot, the fact that he is not the Heir should not change anything He can perform his duties just as well as the Heir."

"How can you make such an argument when you do not know the Heir?" Megatron asked.

"I know Bumblebee," she said. "And I would rather trust someone I know, then govern an entire world with a stranger." She quirked an optic ridge. "I like to know my allies, and who I am dealing with."

Megatron leaned back. "So why him?" he asked, nodding to the pictures. "What makes him so special? What makes him stand out to you, and how can you deem that he would be an honorable mech like his Prime?"

"I could list all his qualities, the good and the bad," she said. "I could argue and point out his talents and abilities, yet it would do nothing to change your mind. You are a mech who is impressed by actions that displays results." She leaned into the desk. "Then let me show you what mech I see when I look at Bumblebee. Let me prove to you that he is worthy of being my Selected mate."

"You are asking me to abandon a treaty that I have forged with the Autobots, and endanger the peace we have strived to build," he said. "You are also willing to place the entire fate of our world into the servos of one mech."

"Not abandon the treaty," she said. "Just alter it. I will work with the Autobot Heir, but not as his mate. I will not endanger peace, but only build and preserve it with Bumblebee. He is already involved in the military and politics; you need only observe his records in Iacon. And the fate of our world would not just be in Bumblebee's servos, but in mine as well, and in the countless other mechs and femmes you and the Prime have deemed worthy to govern Cybertron."

Megatron's face was impassive. "Optimus Prime will not like this is you have chosen a mate who is not a Selected," he stated.

"I will speak to the Prime myself on this matter," Arcee said.

"Oh, I intend for you to speak with him," Megatron said. "What I do not understand is how careless you could be. I am morse disappointed with the Autobot himself. I thought he was raised to be alert and responsible."

Arcee frowned at the odd statement.

"After all," he continued. "I did know his carrier and sire, or at least, the carrier and sire who found and raised him. Well known public figures, they are. Such a scandal would affect them negatively."

Arcee's mind came to a screeching halt, and her optics widened for just a fraction.

His loyalty to Optimus Prime and the Selection. His deep knowledge and insight about the Primes and his dedication to Cybertron. His closeness to Elita-One and Optimus Prime.

His mysterious history, and his vague answers about his guardians.

A distant memory came back, one of a recent discussion she once had with the mech that know consumed her thoughts.

 _"Do you know the Heir?"_

 _"Sometimes I think I do, and sometimes I'm sure I don't."_

Such a vague and simple answer that should not carry much meaning, until now.

It couldn't be, it couldn't be that simple, that easy. It was all too good to be true, and she dared not hope.

Yet, she was hoping, willing to hope and reach out for such an easy escape. But she treaded with caution.

She let out a shuddering breath, servos clenching as she took one, bold step into her future.

The age old game she would play with Megatron; he had promised to tell her the name of her mate, if only she could provide him with the right name.

Well, she was holding him to such a promise.

"Bumblebee," she said suddenly, looking Megatron in the optics.

Megatron grinned triumphantly, optics flashing as the truth in his gaze was all the answer she needed.

* * *

"This is crazy if he wants us to stay out this late," Smokescreen grumbled, looking up at the dark sky. "I mean, what if we get caught in the acid rain?"

Bumblebee chuckled. "We call for a groundbridge," he answered, rolling his optics. "Duh."

Smokescreen just grumbled, curling into himself with a scowl as he folded his arms.

"What's up with him?" Firestar asked, gesturing towards the sulking white mech.

"Smokescreen is always like that," Bee said. "He gets really moody when it rains."

"I am not moody!" came the indignant shout.

Bumblebee was about to reply back with a snippy reply, but the sudden, startled screams cut him off and wiped all joy he previously felt from his spark. He looked up with wide optics to see large shadows descending from the sky. Fire rained down from the clouds, screams he could not identify filling the air.

Bumblebee snapped into action when an armored, winged beast flew down, snatching mechs and femmes before vanishing into the clouds. The same mechs and femmes that were taken fell to the ground, their terrified screams cutting off at the impact of the ground.

Bumblebee broke out into a run, trying to avoid the talons and claws that were so eager to grab at any victims. Bumblebee stumbled to a halt, letting out a horrified gasp when a femme in front of him was snatched, her screams cutting off as he body was snapped.

"Smokescreen!" Bumblebee screamed, looking for his friend in all the chaos.

Someone grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, causing him to stumble forward. "Move!" a familiar voice shouted.

Bumblebee looked up to see Smokescreen running alongside him, keeping to the ground to avoid whatever winged monsters were flying above. Bumblebee regained his senses, running with Smokescreen. Running where, he did not know.

"Rookies!" a voice shouted, catching their attention. Both Bumblebee and Smokescreen looked up to see the senior Decepticon officer taking cover, firing his guns at the shadows that could be spotted.

"What's happening?" Bumblebee demanded as he and Smokescreen took shelter with the mech.

"Don't know, don't care," the mech snapped, firing off another round before letting out a curse as he ducked back down. "And I don't know what those things are."

"They're dropping Cybertronians from the sky!" Smokescreen exclaimed in horror. Bumblebee tried to block out the dying screams of his comrades and fellow Selecteds, but it was impossible over the roars of the monsters that were committing such acts.

"It's like they're looking for something!" the mech shouted, red optics narrowed. He let out another curse. "Primus! Where is that groundbridge?" He put a frantic servo to his comm link, harsh voice coming out clear, yet urgent. "I need an emergency ground bridge now! We are under attack! Repeat, under attack!"

The possibility of living, of surviving, seemed so certain, until Bumblebee felt Smokescreen being ripped away from him. Bumblebee screamed as clawed talons lifted Smokescreen away, the white mechs screams of terror fading into the thick cloud as he was carried away.

Acid rain started to fall, but Bumblebee barely felt the sting of the acid as his pedes started carrying him in the direction Smokescreen was taken, ignoring the officer's startled calls. A small part of him hoped that he could still save his friend. Yet a part of him feared witnessing Smokescreen falling to his death as the creature let him go.

Bumblebee let out a pained yell as something sharp wrapped around his waist. His pedes left the ground as he was carried upward, the beat of large wings all that he could hear as the ground grew smaller. He had no more screams to unleash, the terror and horror of what was happening consuming him as he was carried into the clouds.


	24. Chapter 23

Arcee looked up sharply at the sound of someone pounding on the door to Megatron's office. Both she and Megatron were on the immediate alert when a Decepticon drone burst in the office, not bothering to explain itself or with any formalities.

"Sir! The Selected Autobots and Decepticons are under attack!" the drone exclaimed, snapping to attention.

Megatron's optics narrowed as he rose from his seat. "Attacked? How?"

"We are unsure sir," the drone answered. "The transmission requesting an emergency ground bridge was cut off."

Arcee was already running out of the office, her destination in mind. She had processed enough from the drone to know what was at stake. The Selecteds on the hunt were under attack. Bumblebee was at that hunt. He was in danger, and she was not there for him.

Her spark beat quickly in panic as she ran down the halls. She was aware that troops were already flooding to the ground bridge station, and she intended to be there, if only to be sure that Bumblebee was alright.

Bumblebee, the Autobot Heir.

He was the Autobot Heir! The answer to all her problems was right there within easy reach. It had been so simple! All her worries and anxiety were for nothing! She had agonized about her situation for nearly a year, all when it had a simple solution and answer.

She wanted to laugh at the irony of it all, for not being able to see her easy way in. Yet at the same time, she wanted to cry at the very thought of what this attack could mean. It would just be like fate for her to find out who Bumblebee was, only for him to be snatched from her at that very moment.

"No!" she shouted, banishing those thoughts away as she careened into the room. Her blasters were already out as she ran with the troops, ready to jump into the emergency ground bridge that was already open.

"Arcee!" Barricade shouted, but she ignored the mech's calls as she ran into the swirling green vortex.

She did not stop running as she went through and her pedes touched the energon soaked ground. Nor did she hiss in pain when the first drops of acid rain touched her armor. Her optics scanned the scene around her with wide optics, not daring to believe the carnage around her.

Torn bodies were scattered before her, energon seeping from their open wounds as dead optics looked upward at the dark sky.

"Attend to the wounded!" Barricade ordered as he thundered through the ground bridge. "Search for survivors!"

Arcee's first instinct was to look away from all the death, not wanting to see the mangled features of yellow armor that she might stumble upon. Yet she steadied her resolve and pressed on with the others, blasters still out should whatever attacked this hunting party still be around.

"What could have done this?" one trooper within hearing range muttered in shock as they passed by one mech whose guts were clawed out.

"No blaster wounds," another fellow trooper muttered. "Deep gashes and twisted metal, like they were burned or something."

Indeed, along with the torn metal, there were some forms of Cybertronians that had been melted away beyond recognition. But the entirely bizarre situation was that there were more than a few bodies that looked whole, yet there was no living spark. It was as if the very spark inside of them had been snuffed out.

A choked gasp from behind fallen wreckage caught her attention, and her deliberate steps quickened towards the sound. She came to a stop as she noticed a wounded, dark Decepticon mech clutching at his bleeding side. He coughed, energon spurting from his mouth as his breathing grew more labored.

Arcee knelt down at his side in an instant, calling for help while pressing her servos at his side to stop the flow of energon. "Help is here," she said quickly, hoping to keep him awake and alert. "Just stay with me, optics on me," she ordered.

"It...came so...quickly," the mech gasped, optics wide with terror. His chassis rose and fell as he struggled to get his words out. "From...the sky!"

She focused on him, her gaze intense. "What came from the sky?" she demanded.

"Beasts," he gasped. "Fire." His optics flickered for a moment, and Arcee feared that he would not awaken, but he still spoke in a low, breathy whisper. "Screams...death."

She gripped his face, forcing him to look at her as his optics flickered open at her touch. "There was a yellow mech here. An Autobot by the name of Bumblebee. Where is he?"

"Bumblebee," the mech murmured tiredly. "Good mech." His speech became more slurred and harder to understand, yet she still strained to hear every word that escaped his mouth.

"Where is he?" Arcee demanded desperately.

"Bumblebee...is gone," the mech said with a final sigh.

"Arcee!" Barricade shouted suddenly and snapping her out of her daze, though she barely heard him as she stared down at the dead mech before her. She removed her energon soaked servos, numb with shock. She barely felt the pain of the acid rain as it came down harder.

"Arcee!" Barricade shouted, reaching her. "We have to leave now!"

"Bumblebee," she murmured, not daring to believe what she had heard.

"That's it," Barricade growled, wrapping his arms around her slim waist and dragging her away from the corpse. "We're leaving."

"No!" Arcee screamed, snapping out of her stupor. "We can't leave him!"

"He's already dead," Barricade said, unfazed as he ran toward the open groundbridge.

But Arcee was not speaking about the fallen Decepticon officer who was now being eaten alive by the acid rain. She was thinking of Bumblebee, his whereabouts unknown, taken away from her just when she discovered who he really was. It was the unknown that terrified her.

* * *

He beat his massive wings, adjusting his grip on the mech that was now limp in his claws. Beside him flew the Dark One, his smaller form easily keeping pace with his brothers. Up ahead flew the Wild One of the Sky, carrying his cargo as well. Unlike his, the cargo the Wild One of the Sky was awake and kicking fiercely. She was a tough femme who had no regards for the dangerous heights above; she was determined not to be taken alive if escape was unavailable.

That caused the King to let out a rumble of amusement as his gold optics flickered to the femme captive, but he fell silent as soon as the caves they dwelled in came into view. At that point, he took the lead, the two smaller winged beings falling behind as he dived low, wings folded before flaring back up as he entered the well hidden, thin mouth of the cave.

This had been the first time he and his brothers had truly been allowed to fly out on a mission on their own. There was no witch and her noble lap dog to order them around. It was just him, his brothers, and the sky. They had been allowed only a brief moment of freedom as the wind caressed their wings as they flew.

Then, they had spotted their targets, and dove deep after them. Mechs and femmes left their talons, screams filling the air only to be cut off as the bodies hit the ground. The Dark One eagerly coated his talons with spilled energon as he leaped right into his prey. Yet so far, the mechs and femmes they felled were not the ones they had been searching for.

Then the Wild one of the Sky had launched back up into the air with a triumphant cry, carrying his cargo with him as the femme he held captive could do nothing but kick and scream as she was taken away. Yet, unlike her fellow Cybertronians, she would not fall from the sky to her death. She was one of the three they had been sent to collect. Her sent matched the spilled energon he and his brothers had been supplied with to track before leaving for this mission.

Then luck had arrived as the last two victims they were sent to collect were in the same location, both trying to escape. The Dark One had snatched the one mech from the sky, while he took care of the last. It had been a swift, and easy mission, one they completed before the first drop of acid rain had fallen to the ground.

Once in the cavern they were assigned to, he dropped his cargo, his brothers doing the same. The femme groaned as she was dropped alongside the two mechs, yet she was barely on her pedes before she was struck from behind on the helm, knocking her out. She fell to the ground with a faint moan, her red armor gleaming in the dim lighting of the cave.

"Well done," the witch crooned as she stood over the fallen femme. "My pets." She traced a clawed servo on the Dark One's snout, causing him to shiver, yet he held his ground with pride. She laughed merrily, prancing back over to her victims. She leaned over the white mech, her gaze that of a predator as she grinned. "Hm, this one looks like an Heir." Her gaze flickered over to the yellow one. "But so does that one! But wouldn't it be such a twist if the Autobot Heir was a femme?" She squealed at the thought, optics wide with anticipation.

The moment was ruined by the piercing sound of a message being transmitted, demanding immediate attention. The witch sighed, a look of displeasure flickering over her face as she marched over to the console. "What?" she snapped.

"I assume it was successful?" a warped voice said. King growled, crouching down at the sound of the voice. He knew who that was, and he despised such a mech who demanded respect without any reason for it.

"Of course it was!" the witch exclaimed. "But if I were you, I would worry more about covering your trail then whether or not my creations completed their job."

"Your creatures could have kept the bloodshed down to a minimum," the voice snapped.

She giggled. "So what? They get the job done better then Dirge ever did. And I thought you wanted conflict! Not that a few deaths of Autobot and Decepticon Selecteds will change much. Prime and Megatron are too stubborn to watch this treaty of theirs fail."

"Which is why you need to find that Keycard from one of the Heirs," the voice said. "Lead us to Vector Sigma, and complete the next step in this plan. Until then, you are free to use whatever means you deem fit to make them talk."

The witch grinned. "Oh, I intend to. My dear creations need a few new playthings anyway."

King growled, but rested his helm on the floor. He had to admit, he was curious to see what new creations this witch would conjure up with her new victims. His gaze flickered over to the pile of three Cybertronians, all blissfully unaware of the horror that awaited them when they awoke.

"Just don't kill them before we find out about the Keycard," the voice stated, pulling him from his thoughts.

"You worry about keeping your end of the bargain," she hissed. "And I'll mind my own business."

"Watch your tone with me, Antagony," the voice snapped suddenly.

King raised his helm, suddenly interested in what was being said.

She slammed her fist on the console at the outrage. "Do not use my name on a channel like this! Do you wish to compromise me?"

"I can speak to you however I want," he growled. "I own you."

She narrowed her optics, clenching her servos as the staff she carried snapped. "You're no Prime yet."

"That will soon change," he said, signing off and ending the transmission.

She hissed, before the sound built up into a low and steady growl. No one moved as all three beings watched the witch with great caution. She turned to look at them, optics shining in such a way that made King want to cringe back, yet he remained still. She cackled, striding forward. "Now then," she said. "I am going to spend some quality time with these nice little gifts you gave me."

* * *

Bumblebee groaned as he awoke, blinking his optics. He gazed up at the dark, damp ceiling, a dim light providing the only means of seeing anything in this room.

He tried to rise up from the med berth, but found that his servos and pedes were chained. His optics narrowed as he struggled to break free from his imprisonment, only for his efforts to be in vain.

Memories of the hunt came to mind, along with the visions of Smokescreen being snatched away from him, the screams of his friend filling his audio receptors. He remembered the screams of Autobots and Decepticons alike as they fell from the sky as the beasts dropped them. He could still feel the claws of his captor around him, closing in like a stubborn phantom.

His struggling became more frantic as he tried to break free. What happened? What were those creatures? Why had they brought him here? Did they mean to eat him and savor their prey? If so, then that was all the more reason to escape.

He could only think of Smokescreen and pray that he was alright. But such a prayer and hopeful thought seemed unlikely, but it was all he could do.

That is, until he could break free and escape. Then finding out what happened to Smokescreen would be his next priority.

Faint light flooded into the room suddenly, and Bumblebee blinked his optics as he gazed at the figure who entered the room. It was certainly not a beast, but a small Cybertronian. Yet that did little to help him figure out what was going on.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "What am I doing here?" But the being did not answer as she hummed giddily, typing into a now activated console. Machines came to life as vials with blue liquid hovered over Bumblebee. He could not help but cringe, his spark thumping.

"Oh, are you afraid?" the femme crooned, touching his helm with her clawed servos as her face came into his view. He saw no sympathy in that gaze. He did not even see a fellow Cybertronian. All he saw was a shell of a now crazed, dangerous being.

"Don't worry," she said as the vials came even closer, piercing his arms and causing him to choke. "It will only hurt a little."

Bumblebee breathed heavily in an effort to calm himself down. He glared at the femme who was still smiling at him. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

She giggled. "Your companions asked the same thing. Though the white mech had the loudest screams yet." She leaned closer. "I wonder what your screams will sound like." She activated a switch, and the machines pulsed to life as the vials grew warm, and a scream tore through Bumblebee's mouth as a blinding pain filled his every being.


	25. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday, I know I did. Sorry it took so long to update, but here is a holiday gift for you all! God Bless!**

* * *

Pain tore through his whole entire being, leaving him screaming in agony. That continued on as the probing and torture continued. He was subjected to needles, shocks, and beatings that seemed to be for pointless fun and entertainment. At least once a day, he would be submerged into liquid that would cause him to freeze up in terror. Sooner or later, his voice grew hoarse with all the screaming as the days turned into weeks, but he still found some new way to express his terror and pain. He had ceased trying to hide his fear and pain; it seemed pointless as the days blended together.

The witch took great delight in his torment, though it did not show as she conducted her research. His yellow armor was faded from all the experiments she had conducted, yet he still retained some part of his identity.

He was her subject. Her new plaything.

"Have you questioned them yet?" a familiar voice snapped, catching her attention and disturbing her silence.

She growled in annoyance, pulling back from her work. The mech trapped in chains sagged forward and panted as the pain and terror ceased for the time being.

"No," she growled. "I have made such strides in my discoveries with this one and the others. It will be soon before I can conduct the full experiment."

"Well, question them first before you turn them into mindless beasts!" the tall mech snapped.

She rolled her optics, striding forward before grabbing an electric rode and jabbing it at the mech's helm. "Hey, do you know anything about the Key to Vector Sigma?"

The prisoner blinked tiredly. "The...Key?"

"Hmph," she sighed, jabbing him with the now active electric rode and causing him to scream once more. "Guess not," she said simply.

"What of the others?" the mech asked, folding his arms behind his back.

"Question them yourselves," she said, bored. "I'm about to perform the next phase into my studies. His body is strong, so he should be able to survive it. The question is whether or not he will be strong enough to transform back like the others."

The mech in chains was suddenly alert and jerking around violently as the witch approached him. The machines powered to life as the med table the mech was on lifted upwards. Electric shocks caused the prisoners systems to shut down, his optics growing dim. Large, clawed hands from machines lifted the mech upwards before dumping him in a container that rapidly filled with yellow liquid.

"Would you like to stick around and witness this transformation?" she asked sweetly, turning to look at her guest.

He shrugged, descending the stairs. "Why not?" he asked casually, still standing at a safe distance.

The prisoner awoke once more just as the liquid covered his helm. Blue optics were wide with fright as he started to bang on the glass franticly. At that moment, machines powered up as the liquid grew warm and started to glow to a steady, pulsing rhythm. The mech was incased with the glow as his entire being began to pulse.

Screams could be heard from the outside of the container, and the witch began to smile in anticipation. The mech beside her, while concerned, showed no such emotion on the outside. He simply raised an optic ridge and watched.

Soon, the screams transformed into shrieks that was unheard of for a Cybertronian. The shrieks grew deep as they transformed into growls before becoming overpowered by the breaking of the glass from the tube. Liquid pulsed everywhere as the glass tube shattered and the composed mech stumbled out of the way. Yet the witch did not move as the liquid pooled at her pedes. She smiled, striding forward as the smoke cleared to reveal a moaning, winged beast lying in a heap on the floor.

The beast looked up, blinking its blue optics before growling as the witch approached. It stumbled to its clawed pedes before letting out a shriek as it charged at her. The witch merely clenched her claws together, and a blue spark exploded near the the beast's neck, sending him collapsing back down.

"A shocker," she said simply, twirling the device around with a smug smirk. "While it may be barbaric to use such a device on these wild, beautiful creatures, I am not stupid." She leaned forward to get a good look at the groaning predacons face. "Now," she said simply. "What a beautiful creature you are," she purred, stroking the defenceless creature. "Now," she stated, straightening up. "Can you transform back?"

The beast just let out a tired, broken growl.

She shrugged. "Maybe you'll change your mind when I introduce you to your new best friend."

At that moment, shadows blocked out the light as the large predacon descended down and hovered over the trapped beast. A broken moan escaped the trapped creature's mouth as the clawed servos of the larger predacon wrapped around him. "You know what to do," the witch said to the larger predacon. "Break him," she ordered.

The predacon growled, and with barely any effort, he was lifted off of the soaking ground and carried away. As they flew upward, they vanished from the cavern and from sight.

The witch waved a servo in the air in a farewell gesture. "Have fun!" she called out, cackling.

* * *

Smokescreen tiredly raised his helm as he looked around. He feebly moved his chained servos, already knowing that the gesture would be useless.

But that small act of perseverance awoke his numb arms. The small noise of the chains clanging in the still silence reminded him that this was not an endless void of darkness.

He spat out a mouthful of energon from his bleeding mouth, wincing as he felt his body throb from the pain.

He breathed in heavily, feeling stasis come upon him once more.

With stasis came the memories that he was still struggling to process over.

Mechs and femmes were falling from the sky as spilled energon rained down on them from their falling bodies. Creatures of fire and steel clawed at their victims, unholy shrieks filling the air.

He remembered the terror as he ran alongside Bumblebee.

He remembered the guns blazing as the Cybertronians tried in vain to shoot at something.

He remembered something sharp digging into him as his pedes left the ground.

He remembered the terror when he realized what this meant when he looked down to see Bumblebee's horrified face as the creature carried him away.

He had felt nothing but terror as he was carried away, the clawed grip of his captor firm as the lands faded below and were hidden in the clouds.

Now he was alone in this cavern, chained and awaiting the next torture and whatever mechanism this femme was going to use on him.

The doors hissed open, and he winced in anticipation of what this could mean for him.

"Good, you are awake," a different voice said.

Smokescreen blearily blinked in confusion as he wondered what this could mean. The only other Cybertronian who had come to see him was that unpleasant, crazy femme. He narrowed his optics, something in that mechs voice ringing familiar bells for him, though his tired mind could not place where he had heard this mech before. He raised his tired helm upwards to regard this new visitor of his, but the shadows hid his face.

"I am going to ask you a simple, easy answer," the mech continued. "And I will offer you a proposition in return. Right behind that door is a crazed witch who is most eager to try out a new serum on you. I can and will stop her if you will only answer my question."

Smokescreen cleared his throat hoarsely. "What is your question?"

He could hear the mech straighten back, as if surprise. "So that means you accept my offer?"

"What...is the question," Smokescreen breathed once more tiredly. His helm sagged down as he felt his wounds taking a toll on his body.

"The Key to Vector Sigma," the mech answered after a moment. "Where is it?"

"T-the Key…" Smokescreen said, blinking in surprise. "Vector Sigma?"

"You've no doubt heard of the stories of Vector Sigma," the mech said. "An ancient device containing all the knowledge of the Primes. It is passed down from one Prime to the next, should the heir be deemed worthy of such a prize."

"Must be more to the story if you are looking for the Key," Smokescreen commented, voice wavering.

"Where is it?" the mech repeated.

"In finding the Key," Smokescreen continued, his voice now growing steady as the pieces fell into place. "You would locate the Heir of the Autobots, as only the Prime would give it to his heir."

"Where is-?"

"But that wouldn't matter to you," Smokescreen interrupted. "You are only looking for the knowledge and power of the Primes. With it, you could topple and control all of Cybertron, and many other worlds after it."

The mech roughly grabbed Smokescreens helm, snarling in his face. "Where is it? The Key! I know you have it."

Smokescreen could not resist smirking. "Yeah, I know where the Key is. Or maybe I don't. Hard to tell what anyone knows these days." He grinned. "But I do know one thing-" He choked suddenly as the pressure on his throat tightened and the mech holding him captive made himself known in the dim lighting.

Triumph showed in Smokescreens optics as he got a good look at the mech's face. "You won't get anything out of me, Sentinel. You traitorous scraplet!"

Sentinel growled, servos digging into Smokescreens wounds and drawing energon. Smokescreen let out a pained gasp as he felt the precious life blood flow out of him and splatter on the cold, stone floor.

"You are nothing," Sentinel snarled.

Smokescreen glared defiantly at him. "Go to the Pit," he spat out.

Sentinel roughly pushed him back, the chains rattling as Smokescreen hung limply.

"Start with this one next!" roared Sentinel as he stormed out of the room. The doors hissed open once more to reveal another figure as Sentinel strode past.

"No need to shout," the witch said in annoyance, a blue syringe in her servo. "Now then," she said, and Smokescreen could hear the smirk in her voice. "It's time for you to join your yellow friend on making history!"

Smokescreens optics widened slightly. Yellow friend? Bumblebee!

"Bee," he muttered as he fought the stasis that was overpowering him.

"Oh," the witch said thoughtfully. "So that's his name? What a cute name for a fragile, cute mech. You know, his screams were the loudest out of all three of you."

"Go...to…" he gasped, struggling to form words. "The Pit."

The witch smirked. "Darling," she crooned. "This is the Pit."

* * *

Bumblebee fell forward as the winged beast released him, hitting the hard, dirty stone floor. He groaned, limbs protesting as he struggled to rise. He let out a gasp as he felt his armor suddenly shut and transform back, the beastly appearance being replaced once more with that of a mech.

He panted, trying to regain his bearings. He lifted his helm at the sound of mighty wings descending from above. He scrambled back when the large beast landed, letting out a loud, audio splitting roar before looming over Bumblebee and transforming.

Golden optics stared down as Bumblebee stared up at the large, beastly mech in shock.

"Get up," the mech ordered, golden optics glowing.

Bumblebee said nothing, his senses on overload.

His wounded side exploded with pain as the larger mech kicked him across the room. "I said get up," the mech ordered.

Bumblebee grunted, pushing himself to his pedes as he tried to face the larger mech who was striding toward him with determined steps. Bumblebee went to activate his weapons, only to receive a protested, feeble whine from his guns. His optics widened when he realized with shock that his weapons had been deactivated.

"Transform," the beast ordered gruffly. "Now!"

"I-I can't!" Bumblebee exclaimed helplessly, staring up at the mech.

The mech growled, grabbing Bumblebee by the throat and lifting him up. Bumblebee let out a choked gasp, kicking feebly at the other mech who held him captive.

"When I give you an order," the other mech snarled, bringing Bumblebee close. "You obey it. Around here, you will obey me. This is my domain. I am King!" With an enraged yell, the mech threw Bumblebee across the room. "Transform!" he bellowed.

"I can't!" Bumblebee shouted, his wounds reopening up as pain flooded through him.

"Then defend yourself," the mech growled, transforming once more into the large, fanged beast. Fire erupted from his mouth, and Bumblebee did his best to scramble away. The fire burnt at his armor, and he yelped in pain as he fell forward.

He gasped when sharp talons dug into his legs and dragged him back. He lashed out, optics narrowing as he flipped himself over to lash out fiercely with a violent kick. The beast let him go, and Bumblebee used this as his moment to escape.

Only, there was no way to escape. A quick look up showed that his only way of escape was upwards. Everywhere was a circle with no way in or out. Just upwards.

While he was looking upwards, the beast lashed out at him, pinning him down to the ground. Bumblebee groaned, managing to turn to sharply look at his captor. "What...are you?" he ground out.

The beast transformed back into the large mech, golden optics narrowed. "What I am is a predacon," he growled, leaning forward. "But _who_ I am, is entirely different." He shoved at Bumblebee, earning a pained cry from the yellow mech. "I am my own being, my own master. I am Predaking!"


	26. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: I am so, so, so sorry for this! It took me so long to update and I honestly have no excuses other then the usual. Thank you for sticking with this story and do feel free to keep pestering me if I take too long to update. On another important note, this story has moved from the K+ rating to T for certain reasons. Nothing explicit, I just feel better with that rating.**

* * *

The predacon dug his talons into Bumblebee's damaged armor. He yelled in pain, feeling his vocalizar nearly break from the strain of the screaming he had previously unleashed. The wet substance he felt trickling down his armor was no doubt the precious fluids of energon leaking out from his many wounds.

If Cybertronians could cry, he would be sobbing from the torment.

"Do you wish to beg?" Predaking sneered, snarling in Bumblebee's face.

Bumblebee narrowed his optics, focusing as much as he could with his hazy vision. Despite the pain that fogged up his mind and the agony flooding his system, he managed to focus on one, flimsy thought.

"You are no king," he spat out.

The predacon let out an enraged roar, flinging Bumblebee across the room. He landed to the ground and continued rolling until he slammed into the far side of the wall. He let out a pained grunt, but laid there, limp. He could do nothing else.

His bold thought that he had expressed to the haughty beast may as well be his last.

"I am supreme! I am from a powerful, indestructible race that your kind tremble at the pedes at!" he bellowed. "Even now you submit to me." A clawed peg slammed into Bumblebee's helm, burying the side of his face into the ground. "Even now, I shall show you your rightful place."

"You are a king," Bumblebee groaned. "Who submits to those who imprison him. You are a king who does not dictate his own actions. You are a king," here, he managed to lift his helm to stare into predakings gold optics. "Who bows to the powers above him. You are a king in nothing but name only."

The pain, as he expected, did not cease. But Bumblebee could care less. He could not fight, he was useless and leaking energon. At this rate, he would bleed out as the predacon toyed with him while he had his royal fit.

Predakings self-entitlement nearly disgusted him and left him sick. But Bumblebee kept his mouth shut, feeling his strength leave him. He let out a defeated sigh, closing his optics.

"Please," he muttered, straining his arms to force himself to rise. "Please," he coughed out.

"Hm, so you finally beg," Predaking noted.

"If only to get you to shut up," Bumblebee bit out.

That earned him a kick in the face. "You don't know what is good for you," Predaking growled. "You best learn your place while you still can." He kicked at Bumblebee's bleeding sides. "Transform!"

"I will not take part in your prison of a kingdom!" Bumblebee shouted. "What kind of king learns his place in his own kingdom?"

"Transform!" Predaking roared.

"I can't!" Bumblebee shouted, desperation clawing at his spark.

Predaking thundered towards him, clawed servos reaching out, ready to strike. Bumblebee did his best to scramble back, yet his legs gave out from him. He felt his insides react violently, and energon dripped from his mouth as his tanks heaved. His alarm grew as Predaking grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up into the air.

"Transform," Predaking ordered. "Leave this fragile shell of yours behind. Join your brothers." His face leaned in closer. "Join your king."

Bumblebee choked out the energon gathering inside his mouth. "I can't," he gasped.

Elsewhere, observing from a safe point of view, two Cybertronians watched the scene with interest, albeit, different expressions. One watched everything with growing glee and fascination, while the other, observed with mild concern.

"His levels are decreasing," Sentinel noted.

Antagony glanced at the stats that monitored Bumblebee's current condition. As of now, they were in the red zone. She quickly tapped on a key on the console that showed Bumblebee's current condition. She frowned when she noted the multiple injuries he had sustained, and how his spark was giving off weak signs.

She hummed. "Yes, they are."

"He could bleed out," Sentinel said.

Antagony let out a sigh before she arose from her seat, a tad annoyed. "Yes, he might." Grabbing her staff, she trudged out of the room with narrowed optics. As interested as she was in the interaction going on between Bumblebee and her pet, she had no intention of losing her new toy.

Sometimes her predacons took things a bit too far with their new playmates. It was why there was only three of them, out of the many others she had created, that had survived.

But the predacons up rooted the weak ones. But in sending the new creations on the first day of their programing, she was setting them up for failure. She learned by watching and experimenting that Predaking was the best to send the newest prisoners out to, as he usually broke them and forced them to transform.

If they didn't die first.

Normally, she would leave things be and watch the inevitable outcomes. But Sentinel was adamant about keeping these particular three prisoners alive.

"Looks like you three are getting the special treatment," she hummed to herself as she activated the code to the doors before transforming and flying into the area where Predaking was currently beating the yellow mech to a pulp.

"Enough!" she announced, landing behind them, her staff activated as the dust cleared. Her voice boomed in the circular arena, carrying on loudly.

The predacon glanced at her with mild interest and observed her. He still held the other mech, and she noticed with a small note of concern the energon trailing down him. It looked as if someone had dipped him in the fluids before rolling him in dirt.

Yep, that was her fault.

She shrugged. Nothing she couldn't fix. She was eager to try out her new healing technique anyway.

"Put him down, there's a good boy," she cooed, watching how Predaking lowered the mech to the ground, slowly. His golden optics narrowed, yet he eyed the staff with wariness. She smirked. It was the small, subtle hints of defiance, and she let them have those moments. Yet she always reminded him who really was in charge here.

She knew how he thought. After all, she had created him, molded him into the savage beast he was.

He may think himself the King, but she was the Queen standing behind him with a dagger at his back.

The yellow mech fell to the the ground with no sound at all, and she calmly strode over. She clucked her tongue as she stared at him. Looking up, she stared at Predaking. "Bring him to the lab," she ordered.

Predaking nodded and transformed. With a flap of his wings, he picked up the mech and flew upward.

Dusting off her servos, she transformed as well and proceeded to head back to where Sentinel was. She did not like leaving him alone to his own devices. Not in her territory.

She was not fast enough in getting to the lift. As she entered the room, she noticed another tall mech conversing with Sentinel in low tones. She smirked when she noticed who the visitor was. She strode forward before opening a door to reveal a slumbering predacon. The beast raised his helm slightly, yet he closed his optics when she touched him.

She smiled when the Dark One became submissive. There was a reason she kept a predacon around, and it was not for protection. It was to display her power to Sentinel and the others, to remind them of how dangerous she was.

She smirked as she approached the mechs silently, Sentinel taking note of her presence. She trailed a finger down the other mechs shoulder, causing him to shiver slightly.

"Dirge," she purred as the mech turned to regard her. "What a pleasant surprise."

Dirge narrowed his optics. "Get your servos off of me, witch."

She pouted. "Is that any way to treat a lady?" She sighed, putting her staff down. "Ah, I guess you will have to come by more frequently. It can get very lonely for me down here with the beasts as my only company." The Dark One glared at her at that point, huffing.

"Shut your poisonous mouth," Dirge growled.

"Antagony," Sentinel spoke up. "You may take your leave. Whatever we are to discuss does not concern you."

She leaned against the wall, the mechs taking note of the resting predacon in the room with her. "It most certainly does," she said. "It is my work, my lab, and my creatures that you need. I am an important, influential part of the plan. I think whatever you have to say should be heard by me." She cocked an optic ridge. "Does this have anything to do with the cortical psychic patch?"

Dirge bristled, but Sentinel looked unfazed at her comment. "We have located where the psychic patch is," Sentinel stated. "Stealing it should not be a problem. But it is heavily guarded, and the extraction may take a couple of weeks."

She shrugged. "So send Dirge. He's good at blowing stuff up and causing a messy scene." She grinned. "Or send my predacons. They make destruction an art."

Dirge scowled. "I am the most wanted Cybertronian in the whole system. Not to mention your beasts are not exactly stealthy."

"No one is aware of the predacons," Sentinel said. "And I would like to keep it that way. All those Cybertronians during the attack are dead, and it suits our cause." he folded his arms. We have other means of stealing the cortical psychic patch, and I am well aware of the layouts in Kaon."

Antagony laughed suddenly, causing both mechs to stare. "Do not tell me that you," she chortled as she pointed at Sentinel. "Are going to be the one to steal it!"

Sentinel frowned. "But of course," he said. "There is no other way that I would have it. I do not need your greedy paws all over it."

"My spies are already stationed in Kaon," Dirge said. "They are awaiting further orders."

"Tell them to hold their ground," Sentinel ordered. "With the psychic patch, we will be able to extract the information we need quickly and efficiently from our prisoners."

"Not as much fun," she muttered. "I find it more enjoyable to extract the information through their bloody screams."

"You have two weeks at the least to have your way with them," Sentinel said, causing her to brighten up. "But see to that yellow mech, I cannot have him dying on us when we need them all alive."

* * *

Bumblebee was not even aware of being submerged into the healing tank. He felt his broken gears being twisted and turned into their rightful places by some supernatural force. He screamed and withered as the painful healing process began. It was then he realized something:

The witch was trying to heal him.

Quickly and painfully, but she was still trying to heal him. For whatever reason, she needed him healed and alive.

Did she wish to send him back to that destructive beast? Was this some sort of twisted game? Would he remain here for all eternity as nothing but a playtoy for the mythical beasts?

He rested his helm down on the berth when the pain ceased for a blessed moment. He was still bound, and his spark was beating erratically, but he tried to take this moment to gather his wits.

He distinctly heard the sounds of a door swishing open, yet he did not even open his optics.

"I am going to repeat what I have told the others," the voice said, startling Bumblebee. "Where is the Key to Vector Sigma?"

Bumblebee sighed, not answering as he fell limply.

A rough servo grabbed at his helm, forcing him to look up into fierce, blue optics. "The Key to Vector Sigma," the mech hissed. "You know where it is, don't you?"

Bumblebee blinked his optics before faintly muttering something under his breath that could not be understood.

The mech leaned in closer. "What?"

Bumblebee lurched forward, sharply head butting the mech in the helm. The mech released him and let him go with a startled, pained growl. Bumblebee instantly regretted the move as his own helm exploded with pain from the impact. Ironhide had always warned against using headbutting as an attack, as it would cause both the attacker and the victim pain and delirious. But at the moment, he felt triumphant with his move.

The mech glared at him, optics narrowed as energon dripped down his face from the split Bumblebee had caused. His good feeling grew a bit.

And then it vanished when the mech raised his servo, flicking his fingers. "Show him," he ordered.

Bumblebee's optics widened when the doors in front of him creaked open. Something large inside paced around as its claws scrambled against the ground, but it took him a moment to realize that it was not pacing, but rather, struggling.

The doors opened to reveal a bound and chained predacon struggling against its restraints. Its golden optics flashed between different colors of blue and yellow, as if undecided on what to settle on. The predacon froze when its optics landed on Bumblebee before it lurched forward with a shriek when electric shocks ran through it.

"This is our most successful, new prisoner," the mech said simply. "She has learned to transform between Cybertronian and beast rather quickly. We are pleased with the results." He shook his helm, letting out a rueful sigh. "It is shame that we must reward her with pain."

"Stop it," Bumblebee pleaded.

"Where is the Key?" the mech demanded. "You know where it is. Tell me!"

Yes, he did know where it was. In his room at Kaon, hidden in a secure case buried beneath a pile of datapads and sensor blocks.

But he could not, would not, tell anyone that.

"I don't know," he said instead.

The predacon screamed in pain as electric waves tore through her once more.

"I don't know!" Bumblebee screamed, struggling. "I don't know where it is!"

"You either can't tell me, or you won't," the mech said simply.

"Stop! Let her go!" Bumblebee screamed. He then watched in fascination as the predacon crumbled within itself, rapidly transforming into a recognizable Cybertronian. Her armor was different, her structure taller and larger, more beast like. But Bumblebee still knew her.

"Firestar," he croaked out, causing the femme to look at him with narrowed optics.

"I'll kill you!" she screamed, struggling against her chains, her roar thunderous. It took Bumblebee a terrifying moment to realize that it was not him she was threatening, but the mech.

"I swear to Primus, I will kill you!" she screamed, her face twisted in rage as she focused her blazing optics on the mech. Her screams of rage and pain became more uncontrollable as she lashed out promised threats to the mech. "Traitor! Murduer! To the Pit with all of you!"

"The power of a Prime in that structure," the mech mused thoughtfully. "That is why you were chosen to be brought here."

Firestar breathed heavily, panting as she seemed to calm herself down, yet the promise of death was still raging in her optics. "I will kill you," she promised, her voice low, yet still carrying more promise then her screams of revenge. She looked up. "I condemn you to a painful death and to the pits of Unicron. This I swear, Sentinel."

Bumblebee's helm jerked up at that name, his optics wide with shock. In that instant, rage filled him once more as he narrowed his optics. What had he done? Had Sentinel, the most respected mech in Cybertron and a mentor of Optimus Prime, simply betrayed them all to be warped into mindless beasts?

Primus, Bumblebee thought with growing horror. Had Smokescreen met the same fate as Firestar and himself?

Sentinel straightened up. "I have given you something to think about," he stated simply. With a nod of his helm, the doors lowered down and Firestar vanished from sight with a condemning 'thud'.

"I'll kill you," Bumblebee promised icly.

"Get in line," Sentinel said simply as he strode away, leaving Bumblebee once more.

* * *

Smokescreen groaned as he was dragged outward and left on the ground in a useless heap. He did not even move as the sound of beating wings overhead descended on him. He flinched when claws wrapped around him and carried him away.

His spark hammered in fear of being dropped from such a dangerous height, or being devoured by the winged monsters. But all that was dashed away when they entered a wide circular room. He was dropped down from a safe height, yet his healing wounds protested against the unfair treatment.

He rolled over and groaned before staggering to his pedes, his mind racing. What was he doing here? What was happening? With every question, his spark raced on even faster in panic.

He took in a deep breath to calm himself down. Analyze, he told himself firmly. What do you know about the situation?

Sentinel was involved, that much was certain. And he was in league with some crazed femme who took great joy in poking her victims with painful needles and horribile electric shocks. Whether such torment was for her pleasure or for some other reason, he had yet to figure out.

Then there were the armored, winged beasts that breathed fire. Smokescreen had yet to figure out what they were. Yet he remembered the legends and lore of a mighty race of such description before.

He swallowed nervously. Was he in the presence of legends coming back from the dead, rising from the ashes of history?

He shook his helm and tried to banish such disturbing thoughts from his mind and focus on something else. Sentinel was looking for the Heir of the Autobots and the Key to Vector Sigma. With the Key, he could possess all the knowledge on the Primes and use it against the new government.

His spark froze as an unpleasant thought came to mind. Would Vector Sigma reveal to Sentinel how to kill a Prime? In the hands of the likes of Sentinel, anything was possible.

After all, knowledge was power.

Something descended from up above, and Smokescreen looked up with growing dread as the winged beast landed in front of him with a roar, its silver and blue armor glinting in the light. The beast reared up before transforming and taking the form of a mech. The mech sneered at Smokescreen as he rose to his shakey pedes.

"I am Skylynx, the Wild one of the Sky," the mech said. His golden optics narrowed as he regarded Smokescreen "Transform, now."


	27. Chapter 26

Arcee's gaze was hard as she stood amongst the crowd. Her servos were clenched as her arms hung loosely at her sides. The voices of those speaking around her in the meeting room was processed by her audio receptors, yet she gave the outward appearance of someone who did not care about her surroundings.

But she did care. She cared so much that her spark clenched with pain, yet trembled with anger.

She thirsted for justice, she hungered for it.

But she needed answers. Above all, she needed to know how this attack happened, who attacked the Selecteds.

And why Bumblebee had to die.

She blinked her optics at the thought, the only movement she had done since the meeting began.

Bumblebee. In just months ago, she had been faced with an unimaginable chance at a life with him. It had all seemed too perfect, too well planned out. The fact that Bumblebee, the mech who had slowly stolen her spark, was the same mech she was to bond with; it had been too good to be true.

And it had been. Because the universe itself wanted to remind her that perfect moments like that were not hers to keep.

She narrowed her optics. Why not? Why could she not have that life she desired? Who had the right to take that all away from her? Who had the right to not only take Bumblebee away from her, but to slaughter all of her friends and comrades as well?

As was stated before, she demanded answers, just as everyone else did.

In fact, that was what all the chaos and confusion in the meeting was about. Threats were being made, accusations were thrown around, demands had yet to be met. Only the level-headed bots kept everything under tight control. But even maintaining sanity was a challenge in of itself.

She had not spoken a word, not even bothered to voice her thoughts and queries. But she was formulating a plan, a call to action.

She had everything set, all she needed was to speak to Megatron. The question was whether or not he would allow her to conduct her mission.

The meeting came to a close, and before anyone was heading out of the large, spacious room, Arcee was already slipping outside. Her steps were brisk and full of purpose, and she made no sound in the wide, empty halls.

"Arcee," a voice said suddenly, stopping her in her tracks.

She turned to regard the speaker with narrowed optics. "What?" she snapped.

A turquoise femme stepped out of the shadows, and Arcee immediately recognized her as Moonracer. She dimly regretted her harsh tone, yet she pushed that aside and labeled it as a minor offense on her part. There were more pressing matters to attend to then being harsh with someone.

"What can I do for you?" Arcee began, but Moonracer was already speaking, her own optics narrowed.

"I hear you are putting together a team," the Autobot said.

Arcee nodded. "Yes. Barricade is organizing the team of scouts. I am just a member with my own inside group of professionals."

"And what do you hope to find with this group?" Moonracer inquired.

"Answers," Arcee answered swiftly. "Confirmation."

Moonracer's blue optics narrowed even further. "Confirmation that they are dead?" she demanded.

"It has been agreed that no one survived," Arcee answered, and she hated how emotionless her voice sounded. Yet that was the answer an Heir would give to a subject of Cybertron. An answer a Decepticon would give.

Not the answer of a friend.

"You do not know that," Moonracer said lowly.

"The acid rain destroyed everything. Who we could save were far from the living when we managed to pull them through." She stared at Moonracer, unblinking. "There were no survivors."

"Don't tell me what I already know!" Moonracer snapped suddenly, her optics sparking and her servos balled into fists.

"What would you have me say?" Arcee replied back, her tone sharp. "I have no answers that I can give you." She controlled her tone more evenly. "But I can promise you that their deaths will not go unanswered."

Whatever fury Moonracer had felt slowly drained away from her, only to be replaced with despair and confusion. "You mean to find answers." It was not a question, but a statement of understanding.

"I mean to do my best," Arcee said. What she did not say was that she would not stop at 'her best.' She would search for answers, look for any traces of who was responsible even if it took her thousands of years.

"Let me join," Moonracer said suddenly.

Arcee finally blinked, a moment of confusion cracking through her facade. "What?"

"Let me join your team," Moonracer said firmly.

"If you wish to join the Decepticons scouting reformation," Arcee said, stressing the word 'Decepticons' to the Autobot she was addressing "You may speak with Barricade about it."

"I am aware of the mobilizations," Moonracer interrupted. "They are only looking for bodies and pieces of discoveries to present to the public." She grimaced. "The team is made of brutes who relish spilling energon instead of providing what I need." She looked at Arcee. "I do not personally know you well. But I do know _of_ you. You are thorough, ruthless. You require results and will not finish half way." She cocked her helm. "Even now, I can see it in your optics, hear it in the tremble of your voice that this is personal to you. But it is more than that; you are aware of what needs to be done, and you will do whatever it takes to succeed at your goal."

Arcee was silent for a moment before answering the resolute femme before her. "Why come to me?" she asked. She had a fairly good idea why, but she needed to hear the reason from the femme's own mouth.

At this, the pain came in full force for Moonracer. "Bumblebee was like my brother. I loved him. I loved him so much that my spark hurts at not knowing what happened, or why." Her optics hardened, and Arcee felt that in that moment she was staring at a different femme entirely. "I will aid you in finding the ones who did this to my friend. I will aid you my weapon, and my spark, if only to bring swift and cruel justice to the bloody killers who dared to stain Cybertron with innocent energon."

"Let us hope it does not come to that," Arcee said, speaking of Moonracer offering her life. "But," she hesitated for a moment, a wry smile coming across her lips. "Well said." She cocked her helm. "You said before that the teams you had seen were made of brutes. Well, I can honestly say that this team of mine is no different. But I selected them specifically for the very reason you and I are here." She smirked at Moonracer. "And because of their particular expertise in certain fields."

"Sounds promising," Moonracer said, though she did not look as optimistic as she had before.

Arcee shrugged. "They are no Megatron and Soundwave, but they are legends in their own right. And they are legends that I trust to an extent." She turned away from the femme and strode for her destination. "When you sign up, you will be introduced to your comrades. I will let the past results speak of the team."

She did not hear Moonracer respond, but she did not turn to look back. The reason being because she was in a hurry to get to her destination. But another was because she did not need Moonracer to see the pain in Arcee's optics. The femme was good at reading other bots, and Arcee did not need to be read by a complete stranger. Well, she was not necessarily a complete stranger, but Moonracer was not someone Arcee knew well.

Moonracer was not the only one who loved Bumblebee. Arcee's spark picked up a quicker pace at the thought. What she and Bumblebee had was so new. She could not rightly say that it was love.

But, if they had been given the time, maybe she would have come to identify the feeling as love.

But she would never get the chance, as it had been stolen from her.

These thoughts plagued her as she sat in the cold, dark office she had arrived in. She was mercifully pulled away from such grim fantasies when the door opened to reveal Megatron striding in.

"Why am I not surprised?" he stated with a grunt.

She slid off of his desk where she had been perching. "Because you knew this was coming."

"Indeed I did," Megatron said. "I am only surprised that it took you this long to come to me finally. I have not seen you since the attack."

"For good reasons," she answered as he placed the datapads down carelessly on the desk. He remained standing, watching her with his red optics.

"I have a proposition," she began.

He hummed, folding his servos behind his back. "This ought to be interesting."

"Allow me to partake of a team to seek answers to all this confusion," she said. "The techniques I would use are different, thus would yield different results and hopefully further insight into all this chaos."

"We cannot even be sure that the attackers are even Cybertronian," Megatron stated. "There were no witnesses, no evidence. What bodies there were are destroyed from the acid rain."

"And yet you have not given up," Arcee said. "You have drawn your own conclusions."

Megatron just stared at her.

"Conclusions that you have yet to share," she finished, meeting his stare. "But, I have my own conclusions to draw as well."

"We already have many teams out dispatched to find answers," Megatron answered. "Even now, they are covering vast territories of Cybertron."

"My team will be dispatched in a different location," she said, withdrawing a datapad of her own and sliding it over to Megatron. "And we will be stationed much closer to home." She smirked. "So close, that you might get tired of us." She nodded at the datapad. "The details that I have gathered are inside."

Megatron merely glanced at the list of names on the datapad before looking back up at her. "Yes, I will certainly get tired of the company you keep."

"But only a temporary relationship," she replied.

He was silent as he leaned back, optics dim as he was lost in thought. "You will be emotional, considering what has happened."

"I will use that emotion to drive my blades through the spark of whoever is responsible," she replied coldly.

He chuckled. "I am sure you will." He leaned forward, seemingly coming to a decision. "You must report to me."

"Of course," she replied. "Do I even have a choice? These are your comrades I am working with, and their loyalty is to you. You would find out about what I do even if I did not report to you."

"Do give Soundwave a break," Megatron muttered. "He was doing his job, and it is the only reason he is alive for so long. You cannot buy loyalty like that."

"Nor can you buy trust," Arcee replied evenly. Yes, the bitterness she felt over Soundwave's slight betrayal in revealing her relationship with Bumblebee still hurt, but it was a mountain of hurt buried beneath everything that had happened in the past months.

"So what are your terms?" she asked swiftly.

"You know of my terms," Megatron answered, sliding the datapad back to her. "See what you can glean from your findings. This event has left everything we do and say out in the open."

"The treaty is not in any danger?" she asked, unable to hide her surprise.

He shook his helm. "As of yet, no. We cannot pin the blame on Autobots or Decepticons. Both sides lost Selected participants. No evidence points at a likely enemy." More softly, he murmured. "It was as if they were deliberately trying to create confusion with no clear victim."

"What do you mean no clear victim?" she demanded. "Dozens of Autobots and Decepticons are dead!"

"Besides the casualties," Megatron answered. "No one was framed, no one has come forth to claim responsibility for the deaths. No one was painted as the villian. As of yet, our attacker, our enemy, remains anonymous." His face hardened. "And I despise cloaks and mirrors when I am not the one using it."

"Better to shoot at them when you can see the enemy," she commented.

"This hiding in the shadows attack is more of Soundwave's forte," Megatron said. "He has been working on identifying the true culprit behind all this needless mess. I have not seen him in many weeks, and I am expecting great results from him."

"As am I," she said. She dipped her helm in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Lord Megatron for hearing me out."

Megatron nodded. "You have changed in these past months. And I love it. I am seeing more of the Decepticon I have raised rise up in all this chaos." He smiled, optics glinting. "I expect great results from you as well."

Arcee narrowed her gaze, understanding what he meant. In being a Decepticon, no one would be spared. She would show no mercy to anyone she found guilty. Megatron and Arcee did not mention anything about Bumblebee. He was dead, and it would only serve to drive her forward in avenging his death and making the enemy suffer.

As she walked toward her destination, she became aware of the looming silence around her. Just because she did not speak of Bumblebee did not mean she did not think of him often.

She just could not speak of him without breaking down in an emotional mess.

Breaking down would bring her nothing. It would not serve to find who was responsible for his death. She needed a clear helm and a hardened spark.

She had both.

The doors to the lab opened, and she rolled her optics at the sight before her. "Knock Out, please leave the poor femme alone."

"You did not tell me we were having such illustrious company," Knock Out said, still grinning at Moonracer who had inched away from the red doctor. He seemed to have ignored Arcee's order, yet he did not pursue Moonracer any further.

"I look forward to getting acquainted with you," Knock Out said with a smirk, red optics lighting up as he reached for Moonracer's servo.

"I am bonded!" Moonracer snapped, yanking her servo away.

"Liar," Knock Out commented with a purr.

"Well, I will be!" Moonracer said, slightly flustered.

Arcee glanced at Ark, who was standing in the shadows. At Arcee's silent order, Ark strode forward with barely a sound and positioned herself right behind Moonracer, her glare fierce. Although Moonracer was unaware of Ark's intimidating presence, Knock Out surely was. The red doctor narrowed his optics before retreating to his own space, grumbling to himself.

"Must he join us?" Moonracer asked desperately, looking at Arcee with pleading optics.

"Unfortunately, yes," Arcee said as she strode fully into the room. "We will require his expertise." She cocked an optic ridge at Moonracer. "I did say they were brutes, though not of the famous type."

"A doctor is not needed for a scouting mission!" Moonracer exclaimed.

"Quite the contrary," Ark commented. "A doctor is needed for most any mission, as they are required for many medical needs that may arise in the unpredictable situations that may occur."

"You're right, he is not needed," Arcee interrupted. "Not in the way Moonracer means. But he is needed for dissecting difficult objects, such as performing what he claims art on a body."

"I polish my blades for this very reason," Knock Out called out cheerfully. "So many things can be found out when you open up another Cybertronian."

"Which is why, unfortunately, we need you," Arcee commented.

Moonracer's optics widened in horror when she realized what Arcee meant. She actually looked sick. "Y-you mean…" She squeezed her optics shut, bracing herself. "We are not heading out to scout or search for anything, are we?"

"Well, we are searching for something," Arcee admitted as she approached several tables that were currently covered with sheets. "Just not in the way you had thought." She looked back at the Autobot. "If you wish to back out, there is no harm done."

Moonracer took in several calming breaths before opening her optics to look at Arcee. Her servos were shaking, and she clenched them to stop from doing so. Arcee felt a little sorry for the femme. Maybe springing all of this on her was a bit harsh, but she did volunteer rather suddenly.

"If it will yield information," Moonracer said, her voice wavering slightly. "Then...then I am in."

Arcee nodded. "Good."

"What fun," Knock Out smirked as he wielded his buzzsaw, approaching the tables that were covered in sheets. "Ladies, bodies, can this day get any better?"

"You will not touch the bodies until I have overlooked each and everyone of them," a cold voice stated, catching everyone's attention.

Knock Out deflated. "And he ruins it," he muttered.

Arcee turned to address the speaker who entered the room, his looming form intimidating and easy to recognize by just looking at his one optic. "Shockwave, I am glad you decided to join us," she said.

"I have dissected many bodies for many reasons," the Decepticon scientist said as he approached her calmly. "But never to solve multiple murders."

"Then this will be a new experience for the both of us," Arcee said as she stepped out of his way. Out of the corner of her optic, she could see how Moonracer was fearfully watching Shockwave. It just occurred to her that Moonracer was the only Autobot in a room full of Decepticons, one of them infamously known among all Autobots.

Yet despite it all, the femme seemed to be holding herself together.

Barely.

Truth be told, Arcee was slightly uneasy about this as well. Examining the dead bodies of the Selected Autobots and Decepticons they had previously failed to rescue from the attacks was not appealing to her at all.

But they were dead, and she would use them to find whoever was responsible for their deaths, and hopefully avenge them in the process.

She let out a silent breath and became aware that they were waiting for her to start. "Very well," she said, pulling back a sheet to reveal the corpse. "Let us see what the dead have to tell us."


	28. Chapter 27

Bumblebee did not even raise his helm when he felt sharp clawed servos wrap around him and lift him up. He kept his helm lowered, staring at the rocky ground below as he was flown overhead. He closed his optics, for a moment, wishing that he could go to sleep and wake up with this all being nothing but a cruel nightmare.

The clawed servos released him, and he plummeted to the ground. The ground met him seconds later, and Bumblebee's optics snapped open and he rolled to the ground before leaping to his pedes.

Dust swirled around him as Predaking landed before him, transforming once more into a mech. His golden optics narrowed as he regarded Bumblebee.

"Transform," he ordered.

"I know the drill," Bumblebee huffed. He straightened up, clenching his servos into fists. His optics fluttered closed as he struggled to activate his transformation. He felt his armor shift and form into an unnatural shape.

A low growl escaped his mouth, and he blinked his optics to survey his surroundings. He steadied himself on his newly formed claws, wings beating frantically for balance, yet he tensed up and forced himself to remain still.

"Exemplary," he heard Predaking say. Bumblebee focused his gaze on the mech, who was still in Cybertronian form. Bumblebee narrowed his optics, his fanged mouth clenching. It would be so easy to rush forward and snap Predaking's neck, or melt him into a pile of useless metal with the very fire Bumblebee felt building up inside of him.

Before Bumblebee could take even one step forward, he was thrown to the ground by Predaking himself who had leaped at him with such ease and swiftness. The predacon had rapidly transformed as he had rushed at Bumblebee, shoving his helm into the ground, forcing submission.

 _"Don't even think about it,"_ Predaking growled into his audio receptor, the gurgled sounds and growls understood by Bumblebee. He let out a startled gasp when the meshed up sounds made sense to him. _"I am the king around here, and I shall not be dethroned."_

Bumblebee huffed, muscles straining against the hold he was trapped in. He could not form words to snap back, so he resorted to just growling in defiance.

Predaking shoved back, his predacon form regarding Bumblebee as he shakily arose on his clawed pedes. Bumblebee kept his helm lowered, though he regarded Predaking with narrowed optics, contempt filling him. Now what was he to do? He had been able to transform into his predacon form days ago, after much severe beatings and nearly fatal moments. But now that it was established that he could transform, what was he to do now?

He tilted his helm upward, looking for a way to escape. Now that he had wings, it would be easy for him to escape, possibly get help to find Smokescreen and Firestar and see if anyone else was being held prisoner.

He launched into the air without a second thought, wings flapping madly. He flew upward, heading for the source of light in the small space. His relief at near escape was so strong that it did not occur to him that Predaking was not pursuing him.

His relief was shocked out of him, literally as electric waves flew through him from the hidden security systems in the ceiling. He let out a screech of pain, wings freezing as he fell to the ground. He landed in aheap at Predaking's pedes, letting out a pained whimper.

He should have known it wouldn't have been so easy.

The sound of wings flapping barely caught his attention, though the sound of one transforming caused his optics to flicker over to watch as a dark mech transformed out of his beast mode. The mech was smirking in amusement as he regarded Bumblebee.

"Tried, and failed to escape, didn't he?" the mech asked with a smug sneer as he approached Predaking.

Predaking transformed to frown at the other mech. "You have no right to be here, Darksteel." The implied threat in hsi tone caught Bumblebee's attention, and he froze as he regarded the two interact.

"I have every right," Darksteel responded. "Antagony sent me here."

Predaking bristled, and Bumblebee latched onto that little bit of information he was given. Was that the name for the crazy femme?

"Why should she send you here?" he demanded harshly.

Darksteel shrugged. "To reunite the others. My charge was too slow, so I hurried on ahead. Right now he's clumsily flapping through the halls."

"Or scrambling for an exit," Predaking snapped, irritated.

No sooner had the words left his mouth then did three more predacons descend from the air with mighty wingbeats. One predacon was being dragged by a much larger one as shrieks and growls escaped its mouth, while another followed submissively behind. The one being held was thrown to the ground not too far from Bumblebee.

"Ah," Darksteel said as he approached the groaning, red predacon. "I was starting to wonder if you were lost."

The red predacon only snarled, fangs showing as she clawed and scratched at the ground. But Darksteel did not seem fazeed by the threatening action.

"Antagony wants the newbies to reunite," the silver and blue predacon said, having transformed into his mech form. He snorted, gesturing his helm towards the smaller, white predacon who seemed to slink in the shadows, wanting to go unseen. "Can't imagine why though. She never extended such mercies to us."

"That was because I could care less what happened to you!" Darksteel exclaimed, glaring at the other transformed predacon.

Ignoring the two quarreling predacons, Predaking strode toward Bumblebee who had yet to move. "Transform," he ordered.

Bumblebee struggled into what he assumed was a sitting position, sitting back on his hunches. Transforming should not have taken much thought. It was much like breathing, or reaching for a drink; it was done naturally or subconsciously. Yet this new body was strange, and Bumblebee had yet to adapt to such a violent change.

He closed his optics, praying that he would transform. His wings quaked in anticipation, yet not even a plating on his beastly armor changed. His breathing grew frantic, his optics wide with horror. He looked at Predaking helplessly.

 _"I can't!"_ he squeaked, clucked noises coming from his mouth. Primus, would he be trapped in this body forever?

Predaking's optics narrowed, and just as Bumblebee feared, he transformed. He leaped on top of Bumblebee before the mech had a chance to scramble away, pinning him to the ground. The two transformed predacons stepped forward eagerly, but Predaking just snarled at them. "He's mine!"

Bumblebee hated his weakness and despised his body for betraying him. He trembled as Predaking opened his mouth and latched onto Bumblebee's neck, lifting him up like a youngling. Bumblebee let out a startled squeak, his tail and hindquarters being dragged on the floor as Predaking carried him to the far side of the room.

Predaking set him down before stepping back and sitting close, gold optics lided. If Bumblebee had to guess, he would assume that Predaking was sleeping. Bumblebee sat up curiously, cocking his helm.

 _"W-what…"_ he clucked, grimacing at the awkward clicking and low growls that escaped his mouth. _"What is happening?"_

 _"You are communicating,"_ Predaking responded, as if it were obvious. He cracked open an optic. _"You sound like a sparkling. Spare me the headache and shut up."_

Bumblebee looked around wildly, noticing the four predacons scattered about. The small, red one was still snarling and laying on the ground, threatening Darksteel. The other small, white predacon was still hovering in the shadows, a picture of submission.

Yet Bumblebee saw the way the small, white predacon's optics flickered around, analyzing and studying everything. While he gave off the illusion of a desperate prisoner, he was in fact a prowling predator. He was watching everything, taking everything in.

Bumblebee released a shaky breath, optics flickering to the two smaller predacons. One was openly defying and fighting their captors, while one was hiding in the distance, watching and gathering intel.

Bumblebee needed to be somewhere in between.

He needed to gather answers. Going about doing it in a different, subtle way would mean he would have to, not exactly play the social game as some would say, but to attempt to create a situation that would put him on speaking terms between himself and his captors.

His racing spark calmed down with the presentation of a mission and a purpose. He could still escape, he just needed to proceed with caution.

He hesitantly placed his claws in front of him before sliding down, his wings draped over him as if he intended to rest. Predaking's optics were still closed, yet from the twitch of his tail, Bumblebee could tell he was awake and aware of everything.

 _"Why am I unable to transform?"_ Bumblebee asked.

 _"You will be unable to for several days, if not weeks,"_ came the short answer.

Bumblebee felt concern well up inside of him, yet he tried not to overreact. _"Why?"_

 _"So you can get used to your form and learn your place for Antagony's purpose,"_ Predaking said.

There was that name again. No doubt, it was that femme who was responsible for all of this. _"What is my purpose?"_ Bumblebee asked. _"How am I to perform what is expected of me?"_

 _"Wrong question,"_ Predaking said.

Bumblebee narrowed his optics at the infuriating reply he received. _"Alright. What am I to expect now that I am one of your kind?"_

Predaking finally opened one optic to regard him with smugness. _"Now we are getting somewhere."_

* * *

Arcee felt her neck cables creak from the strain of hovering over the table for so long. She winced, yet tried to hide the expression as she rubbed her neck. When that did little to ease the pain, she rolled her shoulders, feeling the cables pop and groan. It was a sweet, painful relief.

"Maybe you should take a break," Ark commented, looking up from the datapad she was overseeing.

"When I am finished," Arcee commented, optics flickering back and forth to the corpse on the table and the evidence right next to her.

"Take a break," Ark ordered, her voice firm.

Arcee leveled her gaze to glare at the dark Decepticon, who met her charge's gaze unflinching.

"What more are you hoping to find?" Moonracer asked, her voice breaking the silence. Arcee turned her gaze away from Ark to regard the only Autobot in the room.

Moonracer quickly looked down to the datapad Knock Out had previously offered her. "Arcee," she said finally. "We have been at this for days, what are you looking for?"

"I am not sure," Arcee muttered, looking down. Moonracer's words brought the horrible reality crashing down on her. It had been nearly a week of observing the dead, or what was left of them. The acid rain had damaged the first body, but those they had previously tried and failed to save were mauled beyond recognition.

"Then what do you see?" Moonracer asked.

Arcee frowned. She pointed to the body in front of her. "They were not attacked by mere Cybertronians. There are no blaster bolts, knife cuts, or fist marks."

Knock Out snorted. "I could have told you that."

"Speaking my mind helps me think," Arcee snapped. "If you do not like it, you can leave."

"What else?" Ark prodded, ignoring the doctor and staring at Arcee.

"Could they have been attacked by non Cybertronians?" Moonracer asked. "Like...scraplets?"

"The markings are all wrong," Arcee said.

"Besides," Knock Out interrupted. "If they were attacked by scraplets, we would not have any bodies to examine. I have seen Cybertronians consumed alive by the little pit spawns." He shuddered. "Dangerous to the paint job; they leave nothing untouched."

"And if there was a scraplet nest anywhere near the Selecteds, the hunt would have been relocated," Arcee commented. "I ruled out that theory on day one." She looked up, glancing at Shockwave who was examining another body nearby. "Speaking of the hunt…"

"I have already gathered a list of those attending the hunt on that fateful day," Shockwave said, catching on immediately to her subtle probing. The scientist had not said much, only performed his work in silence while offering results. As Arcee glanced at him, she noticed a subtle, almost hidden object near his work station. It was a delicate, colorful art piece that stood out in the dark lab. It was formed much like that of a crystal, reminding Arcee of the crystal gardens Bumblebee had taken her to. Such memories was painful, and she dared not dwell on them much.

"Both Selecteds and escorts alike; Autobot and Decepticons," Shockwave continued, unaware of Arcee's tortured thoughts.

"I have reviewed them as well," Ark said, casting Arcee another thoughtful look. "I am assuming you did so as well. What are you getting at?"

"First off," Arcee stated as she flipped through the datapad. "How can we be sure that everyone perished during the attack? The acid rain destroyed all evidence we might have obtained, and we have only been able to assume that there were no survivors."

Knock Out rolled his optics. "It is like you said: the acid rain destroyed all evidence. The bodies left out there were destroyed. No one was able to collect the bodies without endangering themselves. If there were any survivors, the rain killed them."

"Yet nothing was gathered?" Arcee demanded. "The acid rain is not like the scraplets. There had to be some manner of evidence left behind."

Knock Out hesitated. "Well, bits of armor plating and rusted body parts were collected," he admitted.

"I want the names of the owners of the armor plating and everything else," Arcee said. "It will not give us an exact number of the bodies found, but it will give me more pieces of the puzzle. What of the hostilities in the area?"

"It would be highly illogical to schedule a hunt near any potential terrorist bunkers," Shockwave commented.

"I am not talking about the hideouts," she answered. "It is no secret that there have been frequent attacks and rebels scattered about. Who is the most active? I want those names."

"I would have thought you would have received such information a while ago," Ark commented.

"So did I," Arcee said with a knowing frown, gaze flickering back over to Shockwave. "Yet here I am, repeating my request to Megatron. He has yet to give me an answer."

Moonracer's optics widened at what Arcee was implying, but Arcee rushed on. "This should at least shed some light on what we are up against."

"Well," Knock Out huffed as he sat back in his seat, propping his pedes on a small table that was clear of pointy tools. "If I were you, I would not only collect a list of those attending the hunt, but also of those who organized the hunt."

Arcee narrowed her optics. "What do you mean?"

Knock Out shrugged, giving off the illusion of one who was not interested, though the gleam in his optics suggested otherwise. "Who organized the hunt? Who suggested the hunt? Who led the sport and who supplied the weapons for said sport?" He looked upward. "Might be something of use."

As reluctant as she was to admit it, Knock Out presented a good point. A quick look at Ark showed that the femme was aware of Arcee's unspoken request and was writing down the needed information.

"Also," Knock Out said as he casually got up and strode toward one of the bodies. He pulled back the sheet to reveal the damaged and burnt armor of the body. "While you are correct that these gash marks could not have been made by a mere blade, what of a cleaver? I have known some crazy Decepticons," here, he chuckled fondly, "who have replaced their very servos with sharp weapons. However, the sudden replacement would make it much more difficult to perform the simplest of tasks."

"What are you getting at, Knock Out?" Arcee demanded.

"What I am getting at is that a Cybertronian with blades applied to their servos, take Starscream's hideous manicure for instance, could easily create such puncuters to the unfortunate victims," he said. He hummed, placing a servo under his chin. "Although I will admit that these puncture marks are rather large for a normal sized Cybertronian to inflict."

"What if they were a combiner?" Moonracer voiced. "A combiner could very well inflict such damage."

"If that were the case, then simply shooting or squishing their victims would have been the easiest way to annihilate all in their path," Arcee commented. "To puncture someone with such lethal force means getting within a very personal proximity of their enemy."

"Yet these are not simple puncture marks," Ark commented, nudging a scowling Knock Out aside and lifting the mauled armor with a protected servo. Even Arcee winced at her forwardness with the body. "They were clawed at, not simply punctured. These cuts go deep, traveling up and down with skill."

"All the precious fluids and parts would have been damaged beyond repair, or come gushing out," Knock Out stated with a slight pride in his voice that disturbed Arcee slightly.

"What of the burns?" Moonracer asked, catching everyone's attention. "The bodies have been heavily burnt," she stated. "Was someone carrying a blow torch?"

"They certainly were not burned to death," Arcee commented. "The heat did not kill them."

"But the impact of the bodies hitting the ground did," Knock Out stated. He huffed at the surprised looks everyone gave him. "Oh come on! Someone lifted the Cybertronians and dropped them from the sky! The insides of some of the bodies is dislodged greatly, some even shattered. Sure sign of being dropped from a great height."

"So, we are looking for seekers," Moonracer commented.

"A whole lot of seekers," Arcee commented. "It would take at least three seekers to lift a small Cybertronian in vehicle mode. If that was the case, then why not shoot them?"

"So, someone who can fly, someone with sharp blades, and someone with a flamethrower," Knock Out mused. "Well, the answer for today seems obvious."

Arcee frowned. "No, really, do tell us what your grand theory of the day is."

"That we will not find an answer for today!" he exclaimed in disgust. "And certainly not in here surrounded by bodies! I mean, do not get me wrong, I love spending time with you lovely ladies with a bunch of bodies on metal slabs. But you will not find anything more in them."

"I will be dispatching someone to find any leads on knife servoed Cybertronians," Arcee stated with calm exasperation. "We will need to look into surveillance."

"You know who would be good at that?" Knock Out said with a smug look. "Soundwave."

"Ark can speak to him about that," Arcee replied swiftly.

"He will listen to you," Ark challenged.

"Yes, he will indeed," Arcee said as she closed the datapad with a firm snap. "It is such a shame that I will not have the time to speak with him."

Ark's optics narrowed. "And where will you be going?"

"I am going back to the scene of the crime," Arcee stated with a smirk. "And Moonracer shall come with me." She ignored Moonracer's startled look as she strode out of the room. "Be prepared to rise up with the sun," Arcee called over her shoulder. "We will be leaving quite early."


	29. Chapter 28

Bumblebee stretched his wings out before folding them back. He rested his helm down, closing hos optics as he felt the smallest bit of light that snuck through the ceiling warm him up. The echoes of the large cavern made way to his now sensitive audio receptors, and his tail twitched at the sound of a loud screech of metal against metal. Yet he stayed in his comfortable position, not moving.

 _"Comfortable?"_

Bumblebee cracked open an optic ridge, watching as Predaking settled down on a ledge close to Bumblebee's own perch.

Bumblebee huffed, closing his optics once more. _"Very."_

He could hear Predaking hum as the large beast settled down. Though curious as to why Predaking had approached him in the first place, Bumblebee did not ask. He knew that if he should attempt to get some answers, he would be met with taunts or silence. Though his curiosity was aroused, and his tail twitched once more as he tried to suppress his initial urge to demand answers.

 _"You seem to be taking this very well,"_ Predaking commented.

Bumblebee finally opened his optics. Hm, so Predaking wanted to talk after all. "Not really," he commented. Outright agreeing could easily be seen as a lie, and he opted to speak the truth, or the selected truth. _"I will either save my voice for when I need it, instead of scrambling uselessly against steel walls," Bumblebee continued._

 _"So you have yet to accept your new form and way of life,"_ Predaking commented.

 _"This is no way of life,"_ Bumblebee retorted, unable to keep the fire in his voice. _"This is not my life."_

 _"What do you have to go back to?"_ Predaking demanded. " _A family? A mate? A family of weak Cybertronians who you can now crush beneath your claws?"_

Bumblebee did not even bother to contain his snort. The thought of Optimus, Ironhide, or even Ratchet being 'weak' amusing to him. _"I was treated well there,"_ Bumblebee stated. _"I was not turned into a beast and tortured for entertainment."_

 _"Soft,"_ came the growl.

 _"Exactly the response I should expect from one who seeks to steal what is mine,"_ Bumblebee retorted.

 _"I do not need what you have,"_ Predaking growled. _"I am a king."_

Bumblebee bit back a retort, though a growl rumbled in his chassis in protest to what Predaking was saying.

 _"You refuse to submit?"_ Predaking demanded.

 _"To the likes of you? Always."_

To his faint surprise, Predaking merely growled, but did nothing else. _"You best watch that voice box of yours while you still have it."_

Bumblebee fell silent. He was aware that if he should anger his captors, harsh punishments would come his way. Though he had no way of knowing why he was a captive in the first place. Was it all for some science experiment to turn Cybertronians into predacons? To bring back a once dead race?

If that was the case, then why bother questioning him about the Key? Yes, he was aware of where the Key was. No, he was not going to reveal to them where it was. If this was an experiment, then why bother trying to find the Key?

His spark stilled at a startling thought. In locating who had and knows of the Key's whereabouts, they would have located the Heir. In locating the Heir, they could eliminate all hopes of achieving peace for Cybertron.

But the Autobot Heir was unknown, so eliminating one nameless bot would do nothing as far as the public was concerned. Optimus Prime could easily replace the original Heir with a fake one, and no one would be the wiser. As sickening and depressing as the thought was, Bumblebee knew that replacing him would be the right thing to do for the better of Cybertron.

Besides, it was not like the fate and rule of Cybertron was riding on his shoulders alone. First, there was the Decepticon Heir to consider, along with the many other leaders selected to help govern the planet. In a way, the two Heirs were just figureheads. Figureheads with considerable influence and power, but not ones with the final say in the rule of Cybertron.

His thoughts were pulled back to the present with the sound of claws scraping against rocks. He looked down to see the white predacon scrambling up against the rocks before pulling himself up and over to perch right next to Bumblebee.

Bumblebee snorted as he watched the other predacon. _"Would it not be much more easier to simply fly up?"_

The white predacon merly glared at him. _"Well excuse me, not all of us are truly confident in these new appendages on our backs. I could fall out of the sky!"_

Bumblebee merely curled up, relaxing once more. _"Whatever Smokes, just admit that you are afraid of heights."_ The revelation that not only Firestar was held captive as a predacon, but Smokescreen as well had been a shocking, yet welcome relief. While it did not bode well that Smokescreen had befallen the same fate as him, Bumblebee was more then happy that he had a trusted friend with him. It also meant that Smokescreen had survived the slaughter during the brief hunt. But it also meant that he had been subjected to the same amount of torture as Bumblebee, if not more.

But he was alive, and Bumblebee would take what he could get.

Smokescreen visibly bristled, flapping his blue tipped wings in annoyance. _"I have never been afraid of heights!"_

 _"But you were never a predacon before,"_ Bumblebee pointed out.

At that, Smokescreen fell silent. _"Yes and I never wanted to be."_ With his statement, Bumblebee was reminded of those who had not been so lucky to survive the slaughter. Everyone else might have been dead, Bumblebee had no way of knowing for sure. But he feared the worst for his companions during the hunt, and his spark trembled with anger at what had happened.

 _"Yet you are both here now,"_ Predaking spoke up with a low growl. His interference was both a warning and a reminder. By speaking up, he was alerting the two to his presence. Both young mechs fell silent for a small moment.

 _"Have you seen Firestar?"_ Smokescreen asked.

Bumblebee nodded. _"She seems to be doing better. Instead of trying to claw out everyones optics out, she has turned to simply threatening them."_

 _"Feisty femme that one is,"_ a new voice cackled. They both looked up to see Darksteel fly up, hovering next to them before dropping to the ledge below. Yet despite the ledge that hid him from view, Bumblebee and Smokescreen could still hear him. _"She arouses me in ways I never thought imaginable."_

 _"She is the only femme that has survived the transformation,"_ Predaking stated. _"She is not to be harmed in any way."_ Unknowingly, Predaking had soothed the sudden concern Bumblebee and Smokescreen felt at the mention of Firestar.

Bumblebee blinked in surprise. Firestar was the only femme to survive this horrid ordeal? There had been other victims before them, and all had failed except for now?

 _"What made us different?"_ Smokescreen asked in obvious disbelief, voicing his thoughts. _"Why did we survive?"_

 _"Different formula,"_ Predaking answered dismissively. _"Antagony would not try it on you until she was sure she had it right."_

 _"What happened to the last test subject she had tested it on before us?"_ Bumblebee asked, hesitant, yet curious.

 _"Eh, they threw themselves into a firing squad while trying to escape,"_ Darksteel said casually. Beside Bumblebee, Smokescreen bristled with barely concealed rage.

 _"Why have you three survived?"_ Smokescreen demanded, as Bumblebee had gone stiff with shock.

 _"Because we not from regular test subjects,"_ they heard Darksteel say, a note of pride in his voice. _"We are the real deal, as you would say, descendents from the greats."_

 _"Impossible,"_ Bumblebee retorted. _"Predacons have been extinct since the dawn of time!"_

 _"Well, we didn't have what you would call a natural birth,"_ Darksteel stated, smug.

 _"Enough!"_ Predaking snapped, though Bumblebee made the connection with growing horror. _"You're clones!"_ he exclaimed.

 _"From the very bones that helped transform you three miserable scraplets into a greater race,"_ Darksteel said. _"We are clones from the bones of our ancestors."_

 _"And it is with those bones that you three were transformed into a mighty race,"_ Predaking stated.

A sudden roar thore through their thoughts, and they all looked up to see Skylynx flying forward them. Bumblebee shrunk back, processor on overload with the new information he had just received. Based on Predaking's reaction, he was not supposed to know such information.

 _"Antagony wants you with me on this scouting mission,"_ he heard Skylynx say.

 _"Is this about the cortical cycic patch?"_ Darksteel groaned, finally emerging on the edge of the cliff he was perched on.

Bumblebee blinked, sitting up. _"Cortical psychic patch?"_ he clicked.

Darksteel stretched his wings before launching into the air. _"Something Antagony kept obsessing over."_

 _"I doubt she would trust you two with such an important device,"_ Predaking snapped. _"You two can barely keep your mouths shut."_ He looked at Skylynx. _"Be safe and swift."_

 _"Always,"_ Skylynx said with a slight bow of his helm before flying off.

* * *

Arcee sidestepped a rather large, jutted rock, her optics gazing in the distance of the tainted sky. Her search was performed with silence, her thoughts loud enough to fill the void.

"Arcee," Moonracer huffed as she scrambled over a rather large crevice of rock to reach the other femme. "The bodies have been moved, all evidence has been gathered or lost. So what exactly is it that we are looking for?"

Arcee turned on the small data pad she had brought along, an image she had brought along with her. A blue screen was shown before her, displaying a source of land. "This was taken by Soundwave seconds before the acid rain hit the land," she explained as Moonracer hovered over her shoulder. "All that he scanned and saw during the masacre is directed here."

Moonracer frowned, pulling back to give Arcee some space. "So what is it that you are searching for?"

"It was noticed that the bodies were scattered about, further supporting the theory of fliers being involved in the attack," Arcee said.

"Could the victims have been running from the attackers?" Moonracer asked. "That might explain the distance."

"Bodies were found atop cliffs as well," Arcee stated, gesturing upward to the canyon above their helms. "If they were trying to escape, they would have sought out cover, not high ground."

Moonracer hummed. "So, we are looking for seekers?"

"I am not sure what we are looking for," Arcee admitted. "Though it does seem logical, however flawed the theory may be."

She did not see the grin Moonracer wore on her face. "You sound like Shockwave."

Arcee's mouth twitched in amusement, though she quickly suppressed it as she continued on. There was a low hanging rock that forced Arcee to drop to her knees to crawl through. Once through the small hanging, she stood up and observed the canyon she was in. The tall walls of rock loomed over her, much like a dark trap that sought to confuse her.

The faint sound of Moonracer crawling through gave her the courage she was lacking in the moment, and Arcee ordered her steps forward. She looked down at the device she was given. At the moment, it was more like a locator, displaying where she was at the present moment rather than the past attack. But that was fine with her, as she prefered to know where she was.

She could feel Moonracer's presence as the other femme came closer to her, looking at the device on Arcee's wrist. "Do you think there were any survivors?" Moonracer asked, voicing the very thoughts Arcee had been trying to suppress.

Arcee's steps faltered slightly, though she blamed it on the loose rock. "I do not hold out on such hope."

"I did not ask if you hoped," Moonracer asked. "I asked what you thought."

"Is there a difference?" Arcee asked.

"Very," Moonracer stated firmly.

"I would not rely on my 'thoughts' on such a tragic matter," Arcee said softly. "By voicing such thoughts, I would dare to hope."

Moonracer was silent for another moment, the only sound so far were their pedes in the ground. "I hope Bumblebee is alive," Moonracer confessed quietly. "Though it does not seem likely at all."

Hoped. She hoped that he was alive. Not thought. There was no logic, no firm confirmation behind her fleeting hope. Yet, despite the facts presented to her, Arcee could not help but readily agree with Moonracer. Despite all that happened, could there even be a small chance that Bumblebee would come running down those hills to her?

What of all the others who lost their lives? She was not the only one hoping for a miracle. Yet, she was also not the only one seeking justice.

But she would gladly take a miracle over justice at any time. She would take a living, breathing Bumblebee over his dead murderer. She wanted him alive to explore the new possibility that was presented to them, she wanted to tell him who she really was. She wanted a chance with him.

"Me too," she found herself agreeing before she could stop herself. She stopped suddenly, causing Moonracer to collide into her. The other femme let out a startled yelp as she slammed into Arcee.

"Whoa, hey!" Moonracer exclaimed. She looked at Arcee with concern. "Hey, it's alright to get emotional. I...I haven't been able to console myself since Bee's-"

"Moonracer," Arcee said harshly, turning around sharply and grabbing Moonracer's arm. "Let's go."

Moonracer blinked and staggered back at Arcee's sudden harshness. "What? Why-" She stopped as her optics flickered over Arcee's shoulder, and she let out a horrified gasp as she took in the very thing Arcee had tried to prevent her from seeing in the first place.

Hidden beneath the rocks that had protected it from the acid rain, yet was still visible to the two femmes, laid a rusted body.

Moonracer wrenched away from Arcee with a choked gasp, turning around and collapsing against the canyon, heaving at the sight. Whereas Moonracer had looked away, Arcee could not bring herself to tear her gaze away from the body.

"It's not Bumblebee," Arcee found herself saying, letting out a relieved, shaky gasp. The mech was larger, and the rusted metal revealed a green paint job.

"That does not make it any better," Moonracer snapped between heaving. Her arms shaking, she tried to pull herself up, but her shaky legs prevented her from doing so. In all honesty, Arcee would not have expected anything less, had Moonracer not spent the majority of the week examining bodies. But she had kept her distance during those examinations, and she had been prepared to look at the bodies when informed.

Here, no one was prepared.

Arcee approached the body slowly. "He crawled over to seek cover," Arcee stated. "There's a trail of dried energon from here down that slope." She looked up at the sky with a frown. "He would have had to have been dropped here. There is no way he could have crawled through the way we came in, as the trail starts at the opposite direction-"

"Please stop," Moonracer gasped, looking over before quickly looking away.

"This is evidence," Arcee said.

"He was once alive!" Moonracer snapped, optics blazing as she looked at Arcee. "He has a family who are mourning for him."

"We are all in mourning," Arcee said firmly, surprised at even her own coldness. She knelt down, close enough to examine the body, yet not touching it. "Gash marks," she murmured. "Very deep."

Pebbles fell down the canyon behind her, causing her to look around sharply. Moonracer went still, her servos flexing as if ready to form a weapon. Arcee slowly turned, poised and ready to spring into attack. The startling sight of the body had left them both on edge and fearing the worst.

A flurry of dust caught her attention, and she leaped forward with a silent roar, leaping upward and scrambling up the loose handholds of the canyon. Moonracer's blaster fire caused many more lose rocks and pebbles to rain down on her, getting caught in her optics. Arcee let out a yelp as she tried to shield her face while still holding on to prevent herself from falling. Yet for all of Moonracer's chaotic shooting, she managed to hit something.

An infuriated yell caused Arcee to look up just in time to see a small being fall in her direction. Optics wide, she barely had enough time to prepare herself for the contact of the body before the small being smacked into her, causing her to lose her hold on the loose rock. She fell to the ground, the rough ground pressing into her back. Yet despite the pain, she lashed out and grabbed ahold of the scrambling being who was trying to make his escape.

"Who are you?" Moonracer demanded in an almost hysterical shriek, coming forward with her guns out as Arcee wrestled with the silver minicon that had fallen on top of her. Arcee had to admit, Moonracer had bounced back rather quickly from her terrified state.

"Primus lady!" the minicon screeched, focusing his red optics on Moonracer with a glare. "Were you trying to kill me?"

"That was the idea," she retorted.

The minicon snarled at her. "Work on you aim, I am a friend!"

"What kind of friend spies on others?" Moonracer demanded.

"The ones whom Soundwave employs," Arcee said grimly.

"Yes, and you don't keep friends hostage," the mincon stated, almost sounding smug. "So why don't you let me go?"

"What? So you can report to daddy?" Arcee demanded, rising up and taking the snarling minicon with her. "Don't work yourself into such a frenzy, Frenzy," she stated with a smirk.

Frenzy grumbled at the poor pun at his name. "Daddy is not going to be happy," he muttered, folding his arms as Arcee strode back toward the body.

"He'll be fine," Arcee stated, kneeling down next to the body. "But your timing is perfect. What can you make of this?" she asked, pointing at the body.

"Arcee!" Moonracer exclaimed in shock, staring with wide optics. "Do you know him?"

"Not personally," she admitted. "But I know of him." There wa sno need to inform Moonracer that Frenzy was one of the many minicon spies that Soundwave would send to watch her when Ark could not. Such a confession would open up a whole lot more questions that would be difficult to answer.

But Frenzy served to make things difficult. "Not personally?" he exclaimed, indignant. He huffed. "Please Arcee. I have been promoted to not only your personal stalker, but your personal photographer. Who do you think it was that took those juicy pictures of you and that yellow mech?"

Arcee blinked, optics blinking as her hold on Frenzy loosened. "Pictures?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"Well," Frenzy mused. "I didn't take the ones from the sky. The credit belongs to Lazerbeak. But I took plenty of other ones." He smirked, as if he knew a terrible joke. "Some intimate ones as well."

"Yellow mech?" Moonracer demanded, tone laced with sudden suspicion. "What yellow mech?"

"Enough," Arcee said, but Frenzy plowed on as he escaped from Arcee's grasp.

"You friend here has a little sweetheart!" he said to Moonracer, pointing at Arcee. "Quite scandalous, I might say. Oh, speaking of which, I am sorry for your loss."

Arcee's blades were out before she could even think straight as she stepped toward him. "You wanted to know about the body?" Frenzy asked quickly, noticing the murderous intent in her optics.

"Speak while you still can," she growled threateningly, servos trembling.

He nodded swiftly, leaping toward the body and taking one look at it. "Whatever you say, mama." He blinked as he stared at the body. "Oh, well this is simple," he declared as he stepped away from the body, strolling through the canyon without a backwards look.

"Simple?" Arcee demanded as she and Moonracer raced after him. "How?"

"Well, only one creature could inflict such damage," Frenzy explained as he strode on deeper into the canyon. It was then Arcee noticed that the dried up energon trail continued. "But only the higher ups know about such knowledge. Sadly, you are not higher ups." He shrugged. "And I could never go against daddy's wishes. He'll give all my desert to Ravage." He muttered. "That scraplet of a cat." He shrugged. "But as I am your favorite stalker, I can point out some helpful tips."

He stopped suddenly at a certain point, gesturing toward a tight space between the two walls. Arcee might have been able to squeeze through the space with some difficulty. "Here, is where the dead mech fell through. He was still alive, but barely from my guess. You can tell he fell here because of all the energon splatter."

Arcee and Moonracer minded where they stepped after glancing around.

"But our killer was not done," Frenzy continued. "Our killer was frantically scrabbling at the canyon. See the damaged rocks?"

Arcee and Moonracer leaned forward to examine the rocks around them that were suddenly lose and damp from being moved, bits of pebbles scattered around them. Gash marks were seen on the walls, as if someone was trying to dig.

"But the killer could not get through," Frenzy stated with a shrug. "So he abandoned his kill, where our relieved, soon to be dead mech, was left to bleed out." He puffed his chassis proudly. "I looked into the area before you ladies even knew I was here!"

"So who was the killer?" Moonracer demanded.

Frenzy just smirked, leaping out of reach and latching onto an overhanging rock, a good distance from Arcee's blades and Moonracer's eager servos that would surely wring his neck. "Can't tell ya," he said. "Top secret, and I want my desert."

Arcee huffed, looking around before striding forward, squeezing through the tight space. She could here Moonracer trying to follow her, though Arcee did not wait.

"So a large Cybertronian," Moonracer grunted as she finally squeezed through. She tumbled forward to join Arcee.

"Possibly," Frenzy stated smugly.

"Possibly," Arcee repeated, though more to herself.

"Someone who could fly," Moonracer mused. "Well, not a seeker if they were not unusually large."

"What if they were not Cybertronian at all?" Arcee said softly. She went still at the faint sound of scrabbling rocks, her spark going still for a brief moment. She looked up to glare at Frenzy. "What other siblings did you bring here?" she demanded.

Frenzy just grinned. "I'm your only true stalker here."

The wariness returned in full force, yet Arcee proceeded forward. She stopped suddenly when she noticed two large shadows were almost hidden within the caves of the canyon. Her blasters were out without a second thought, Moonracer mimicking her actions.

"Are you Autobot?" Arcee demanded. "Or Decepticon?"

A sudden, harsh chuckle that sent shivers down her spine reached her audio receptors, and the two shadows stepped forward. Two, grinning mechs observed both her and Arcee, a very air of cockiness around them. "Neither," they sneered.

Frenzy's sudden, fearful squeak and the two stranger's threatening appearance caused Arcee to stumble back into action. "Moonracer!" she screamed as she shot at the charging mechs. "Run!" She shoved the other femme forward toward certain escape, running after her.

But unlike the mech who was now dead in the canyon that became his tomb, Arcee was not fast enough to reach the small crevice. As she stumbled behind Moonracer, she felt sharp servos wrap around her as her pedes left the ground, the sound of wingbeats filling her audio receptors.


	30. Chapter 29

Ark barely resisted growling in annoyance. Instead, she settled for merely pressing her thin lips together in an effort to prevent herself from snapping at a certain doctor. She tried to force herself to focus on the list in front of her, though the lines that were supposed to form words made no sense as her processor could only focus on Knock Out's needless pratling.

Finally, she turned to stare at him, optics narrowed as her servos gripped the edge of the desk. "Do you mind?"

Knock Out stopped and eyed her warily. With barely a sound, she turned back to focus on the screen that was demanding her attention. Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly as she scanned the list of names and occupations, expression never changing to betray her emotions.

"Well, maybe I could assist you if you would just tell me what you were looking for," Knock Out huffed. He leaned over her shoulder, closer than was needed, to look at the screen. "I assumed we were looking into deformed servo wielding mechs and femmes."

"We are," she stated, optics not leaving the screen.

Knock Out frowned and leaned in closer. "Since when did Ultra Magnus and Makeshift become deformed servo wielding mechs?"

"Ultra Magnus oversaw the preparations for the tragic hunt," Ark answered. "Makeshift was supposed to be one of the escorts, but he was called away at the last minute to attend to matters within the court."

Knock Out sniffed. "Alright, that might be suspicious. But it's stretching it a bit, don't you think?"

"I think it is worth looking into," she replied.

"Okay," he drawled. "But what does any of this have to do with deformed servo wielding mechs?"

"It has a lot more to do with the hunt," she stated. "Just as you had said, it would be best to look into those who organized, planned and provided for the hunt." She glanced at him. "It was quite a clever point, if I should admit."

Just as she had expected, Knock Out puffed up with pride. "Well, it was a spot on, if not obvious, suggestion." He then, surprisingly, deflated. "But dozens, if not hundreds of Cybertronians! And you are planning to look through all of them?"

"It is much simpler, and a smaller search then looking for deformed Cybertronians," she answered. "Do you want to know what the exact number of such Cybertronians fits the bill? Four billion, fourteen million, twenty-eight thousand and two hundred and twenty nine mechs and femmes."

Knock Out gaped. "Where did you get such a number like that?" he demanded.

"Soundwave," she answered simply. "I did as Arcee asked, spoke with Soundwave, and he worked incredibly fast for me. The files are sitting over there." She nodded tho them. "You are more then welcome to look through each and everyone of them."

Knock Out grimaced. "Nah, maybe later." He looked back at the screen she was scanning. "Even if this list is smaller," he started. "How do you plan on connecting any of these Cybertronians to the attack?"

"I follow the money trail and the communication systems," she answered. "As of now, I am looking over the credits of Thundercracker." She paused. "He likes to gamble, and so far, I have yet to see a connection between the money he has lost to the attack performed by terrorists."

"So I guess you do not need me-" Knock Out started.

"Performing a background check would be helpful," she interjected, holding up a datapad for him to receive without looking away from the screen. "It would save me time, and give you something to do."

Knock Out huffed in obvious annoyance, but he received the datapad. Marching over to a desk closer to hers, he plopped down in the chair, his expression bored as he activated the datapad.

Just when she had gotten used to the two hours of silence, Knock Out groaned and shattered the bliss she had taken for granted. "You know," he said, folding his arms casually. "There is some interesting stuff in here."

"If you have anything to share, then by all means, please do share it," she said, unable to keep the bite out of her tone.

"Oh, I have plenty to share," he said lightly. "For instance, there are plenty of mechs on this list who had considerable influence during the Great War."

Her optics flickered over to him with interest. She nodded her helm slightly, signaling for him to continue.

"But that would not matter so much, as it could have been anyone who was responsible for the attack," he said, rising up. "But, not one mech or femme was just 'responsible' for the attack. It had to be a team effort, with someone who had extreme influence in power."

"That does not eliminate anyone on the list," she pointed out.

"Yet you said to follow the money trail," Knock Out pointed out, leaning over her shoulder and scrolling through the list. After a few clicks, the list changed slightly. "You cannot just follow the money trail to one event, you need to connect it to all events that have a connection. For instance, the terrorist attacks."

Ark focused on the list with a raised optic ridge, skeptical.

"One of the most famous terrorists is Dirge," he continued. He shrugged. "Never met him personally, but he was a strong Decepticon soldier, if a little on the fragile side in the processor if you know what I mean. Anyway, how is it that he is able to launch these attacks with such elaborate weapons? Someone is supplying him with the weapons and the money."

"Which could be anyone," she repeated.

"But not all of them have connections to both Autobots and Decepticons." Here, he clicked on the list once more, changing it again.

She narrowed her optics. "What do you mean?"

He shot her a crooked grin. "My dear, in any war, you have double agents. Surely you are aware of that."

"I am aware of that," she replied, her face blank and hiding her true emotions. "But it is classified to me, as it is to everyone else. It was decided that both sides would not divulge the names and information of their double agents for the sake of the spies and their families."

"Yes, they were given freedom," he agreed. "But is it really freedom if you are constantly under surveillance? They may have escaped from the threat of death, or possible harsh judgment some might inflict on them. But it was at a price. Records of every single spy is kept in a within easy reach for both sides. But Optimus Prime will not know who betrayed him during the war for the side of the Decepticons, and the same for Megatron."

She leaned back slightly in her seat. "All that I am aware of," she said. 'What are you getting at?"

"Has it ever occured to you that I am a war veteran myself?" he asked sarcastically.

She stayed silent.

"What I am saying is that I am aware of all of them forbidden secrets, and while I am not allowed to offer you any information on the classified files, I can provide you with a list of Cybertronians that I personally despise, and those who just plain out stink of treasom."

Her optics focused on the list that had shrunk considerably. Her mouth twitched with barely contained pleasure. Yes, her job had gotten a whole lot easier.

"Is that a smile I see?" Knock Out teased, obviously proud of himself.

She leaned forward, overlooking the list. "Well doctor," she said. "Let us look at what you have supplied us with."

The next twenty minutes were spent with her and Knock Out pouring over the history of the mechs and femmes that were left on the list. Ark felt her optics beginning to throb from the strain of staring at the screen for so long. She blinked, pushing past the discomfort.

"If there was anyone who I'd bet my credits on being involved in the attack," KnockOut commented. "I would say StarDust."

Ark did not even look up from her work. "And why is that?"

"I suspect that she is involved in a cult dedicated to Unicron," Knock Out stated. "I never liked her, and I always listen to my first instinct. Some of the rituals she performs are downright disturbing."

"She dabbles, but she is not an agent of Unicron," Ark said simply.

Knock Out frowned. "Oh? And how would you know?"

"Star Dust, if she continues to do so, will eventually become one of Unicron's slaves, an 'agent' as they are called. But she is not at that stage yet. I would suggest Megatron do something about her before she continues her dangerous practices."

Knock Out leaned forward with interest. "How would you know that?" When she glanced up at him, he shrugged. "I could always go through your files and see for myself what you are not sharing."

She turned back to her work, a small frown on her face. "I was once under the apprenticeship of a femme named Angela. She, unlike StarDust, was an agent of Unicron during the war. Megatron had contact with her guild, but had no use for them and their ways. I was but a youngling when the war ended and I was taken away. Megatron remembered me, or rather, someone had, and they took me in. Though their methods of 'raising' were not so different from Angela and her Unicron guild. But at least I would not have the Chaos Bringer in my helm and using me as a host."

Knock Out leaned back in his seat. "So, how old are you exactly?"

"I still _look_ young enough to fraternize with Arcee's age group," she stated casually, her clipped tone implying that she did not want to continue with the conversation.

"So, we just need to look at mechs and femmes with damaged, clawed servos," Knock Out commented lightly.

She frowned. "Maybe," she muttered.

She could feel Knock Out's sharp gaze on her. "You sound convinced."

"I am not thoroughly convinced that the ones responsible for the attack during the hunt are even Cybertronian," he confessed.

Knock Out leaned forward. "You think it was outside help, like another alien species?"

She shrugged slightly. "Possible." She glanced up. "It was something Arcee had said. She had been the first through the ground bridge during the attack, and the mech she spoke with mentioned fire, claws." She paused. "Beasts."

"Delusional ranting before death," Knock Out said. "Happens all the time."

She focused on him sharply, optics narrowed as she watched how his datapad was suddenly interesting to him. He was hunched over, as if he wanted to go unseen.

Suspicious behavior indicating one had something to hide.

"What else are you not telling me?" she asked.

He hesitated. "Now, helping you cut down a list of possible traitors is one thing. But this is top secret information. I can lose my helm for even divulging such a secret."

She crossed her legs. "Then where can I find such information?"

"Why not just ask someone else who might actually get away with telling you what I can't?" he asked. He nodded his helm towards the closed doors. "One such mech is a few steps away, even as we speak."

She arose from her seat. "Then it might be best to seek some answers." She strode forward with determined steps, hearing Knock Out following her. She pressed her servo on the door, pushing it open as she entered the dim room that was surrounded by datawork and electronic network.

Ark's mouth was open to speak, but she stopped when she took in Soundwave's hunched over form, the sound of a frantic voice screeching through the comm link system.

 _"Daddy!"_ a voice screamed, causing even Ark to cringe at the pitch. _"Remember those top secret beasts we were not supposed to talk about? Well, they are not staying secret! One of them is carrying Arcee and the mean green femme who tried to shot me away-"_

The voice was cut off as Soundwave locked onto the coordinates, his visor lighting up as a ground bridge opened up before him. Ark was already leaping into action, blaster out. Regardless if Soundwave wanted her to come, he could not stop her. She was tasked with protecting Arcee, it was what she was trained for. And right now, her charge was in danger. "Doctor," she started, addressing KnockOut.

The sound of a buzzsaw activating caught her attention, and she turned to look at Knock Out who was wielding his weapons with a smirk of delight. "Slice and dice," he said with glee. "Let us go collect some pretty appendages."

* * *

Bumblebee watched as Firestar rested not to far away from him. Her large, predacon helm rested in the dirt, her optics half closed. Yet, despite the fact that she said and did nothing, he could feel the despair washing over her. Even though she had fought tooth and claw against the captors and was the most vocal with what she intended to do to them, she was still like him and Smokescreen: vulnerable and seeking refuge.

She would find that in her fellow prisoners, that he would ensure.

He approached her slowly, curling up right next to her under the shadow of the looming walls of rock that was slowly becoming home. He said nothing to her, only offering her comfort with his very presence.

The sound of armor shifting caught his attention, and he witnessed Firestar transform back into her Cybertronian form. Her armor and frame was larger and more beast like, yet her likeness still stayed the same. If anything, he would have thought she had received an upgrade and a darker, red paint job if he had not known any better.

She looked up at him with blue optics that were sparking. "Transform, please," she said. "I cannot speak to you in such a form."

It was on the tip of his tongue to protest, to inform her that he could not. That after three days, he still could not transform back into a mech. Yet the look in Firestar's optics told him that she would not accept excuses.

He released a slow breath, flapping his wings slightly. He sat back, willing his armor to transform. To his immense relief, he felt his armor shift and form back once more into the familiar shape of his Cybertronian being. He glanced down at his slightly clawed servos with open optic happiness.

"It was the stress of the past events that prevented you from transforming," Firestar said as she slid down to the ground, sitting down in the dirt. She pulled her knees up to her chassis as Bumblebee sat across from her.

"I am glad you are here, despite the circumstances," she said finally.

His mouth twitched. "Me too."

"Where have the others gone?" she asked. It took him a brief moment to realize that she was asking about the two predacons, Skylynx and Darksteel.

He shrugged. "Something about a cortical psychic patch."

She frowned, interested. "A cortical psychic patch has not been found since the beginning of the war."

"Well," he said. "You know the Decepticons. Never one to stop tampering with the forbidden." His mouth twitched slightly, his mind going to Arcee and her boldness. "I would not be surprised if they have one already."

"First the Key to Vector Sigma, now a cortical psychic patch," she mused thoughtfully.

Bumblebee suddenly went stiff, and he and Firestar locked optics. It was with her panicked look that he knew she had reached the same conclusion as he. If Antagony, this femme who was holding them prisoner, actually got her servos on a cortical psychic patch, then she could pluck from all their processors all the information they had. Vast amounts of secrets and personal information would be found, including the Key to Vector Sigma.

In that moment, he could feel his very life line straining. He squeezed his optics shut, spark pulsing with terror as he realized what was coming.

"They think that out of the three of us," Firestar said. "That one of us is the Autobot Heir."

He nodded. "I know." It was almost hard to form the words.

"I've got you back," she said.

"As I have yours and Smokes," he answered confidently. Whatever happened, he would defend them, no matter the cost.

The sound of steel doors opening drew both of their attentions. As they looked up, Bumblebee's optics flickered over to watch as Predaking arose with vague interest, though from the way his tail curled, it could have been dread or hostility he was feeling.

"What's going on?" Firestar asked, rising up into a wary, crouched position.

Bumblebee followed after her, also rising up as his servos curled into fists. Whatever they were about to encounter, he knew they would be unable to fight, but that did not mean he would not try to defend himself or his friends.

"My beloved creations!" a familiar and unwelcomed voice proclaimed. Bumblebee stiffened up while Firestar growled.

"I have a little mission for you!" Antagony chirped, striding forward with an air of cockiness. "It appears that your senor brothers have gotten themselves in a mess, and I am sending three of you to clean it up!"

Bumblebee blinked. She could not mean…? Was she really sending them out? His spark hammered with excitement at the thought of escaping.

"Of course, I have to update two of you with your shots." Here, she giggled. It was then Bumblebee noticed two small, silver disks in her servo. "This will ensure that we will never be separated. I can hear everything you hear. I can also discipline you if you if you need to be corrected." She pouted as she approached Smokescreen who was still in his predacon form. "You won't need to be corrected, right?" she crooned, reaching up to stroke Smokescreen's neck.

Smokescreen recoiled back as she snapped the device on his neck, a blue light activating. With a satisfied nod, Antagony turned her gaze on Bumblebee and Firestar.

"Whatever happens," Firestar hissed as the other femme approached them. "Do not hesitate to escape. Forget about what you leave behind. Escape when you can."

"Darling," Antagony crooned as she stood before them. "You will always come back home. There is no need to escape." She frowned. "But because you tried to encourage your brother to go against my wishes and break up the family, you will stay for some discipline, and he will go." With that, she slapped the device on Bumblebee's neck, right over his voice box, causing him to choke. Whatever he had hoped for in escaping was literally choked out of him with that very device stuck to him.

"There!" Antagony chirped gleefully. "Now, follow King, and aid your brothers in their peril. Show no mercy, leave nothing left of your victims." Her optics hardened as a smile of deviousness slid across her face. "Rain fire from the sky!"


	31. Chapter 30

Arcee tried to make sense of where up and down were, but she soon realized that it did not matter. The ground would still meet her if she fell, and the beasts would still be a threat to both her and Moonracer. It was a matter of what would kill her first: the ground below, or the beasts above.

She went flying through the air as she was tossed upward, and the breath left her as she soared in the sky, weightless for a brief moment. Just as she fell once more, the beast caught her legs, and Arcee found herself dangling upside down. In that moment, she lost all sense of direction as her helm swam with sudden dizziness. She could faintly hear Moonracer's startled screams as the wind filled her audio receptors. But the sound that was the loudest was the beat of the beast's wings as it flew through the air.

She arched upward sharply, her arm blades lashing out. The sudden movement caused her vision to be disoriented greatly, but her blades finally slashed at something. Something wet flew over her faceplates, and the scream of the beast indicated that she had indeed been successful in her attack.

But it was a poor attack with no plan at all. Arcee realized that the exact moment the predacon dropped her. She did not even have time to scream before something else caught her out of the air. She gasped when the other beast had apparently caught her, holding her in one claw while securing Moonracer in the other.

Both femmes locked optics with each other for a brief moment before Arcee lost sight of Moonracer as the predacon dropped her. This time, Arcee did scream, only to be cut off when the first beast caught her pede. It was like some kind of game between the two creatures. A game that made no sense. Would she and Moonracer be shredded to bits in mere moments?

The beast let out a triumphant roar, until blaster fire aimed in its direction cut it off. Turning sharply, the beast turned to face the new attacker, and Arcee's possible savior. Her first thought was that Moonracer had possibly been able to shot at the other beast, but she quickly found out that the blaster fire came in a different direction.

The beast let out a roar before fire spewed from its mouth toward the shooter. Arcee's optics widened in terror as memories flashed before her.

 _"Beasts, fire," he gasped. "Screams...death."_

 _"Where is he?" she had demanded, her voice laced with desperation at that time._

 _"Bumblebee...is gone."_

Then, in that moment when the acid rain had touched her helm in the valley filled with many bodies, she had been filled with despair.

Now, she was filled with rage as fury consumed her very being.

These were the creatures, the beasts of fire and death that had taken Bumblebee away from her. They were responsible!

"Where is he?" she screamed in fury as she lashed out. Arching once more, she dug her blades into the claws of the beast. "Give him back!" She did not cease her attack on the claw that held her captive, and she only held on when the beast tried to let her go. Launching herself upward, she grabbed onto the metal spikes, her right servo transforming into a blaster and aiming at the golden optics of the beast.

The creature screamed when the blaster fire pelted its optics. It tried to dislodge her with violent shakes, and Arcee held on, her optics reflecting cold steel as she continued her attacks.

"Give him back to me!" she screamed, her blade digging into its side.

Her only response was a scream that was filled with rage and pain as the beast tried to shake her off as he fell from the air. The wind in his wings caught him, and he ceased falling. But Arcee lost her hold, and she plummeted to the ground.

Blasters forming into servos once more, Arcee rolled upon impact with the cliff the beast had been flying over. She absorbed the impact as she rolled, optics squeezed shut tight for a moment. She leapt to her pedes, optics focusing on the fighting going on.

She immediately saw Moonracer who was way up in the sky, but that was all she could make out. Optics wide with horror at what could happen to the other femme, Arcee started racing toward the edge of the cliff. "Moonracer!"

Fire pelted from the sky prevented her from going any further. She came to a hasty halt and tried to scramble back, arms thrown up to protect herself. Yet despite all the chaos around her, her audio receptors still picked up the faint sound of someone calling her name.

Something collided into her, and she fell back with a startled shout. The small being who was now hovering over her protectively was both a shock, and a welcome arrival.

"Don't worry!" Frenzy chirped, optics surveying the skies as his blasters were out in front of him. "Daddy is here!"

Arcee looked up sharply in response, a small smile appearing on her mouth as she watched the drone that was unmistakably Soundwave engaged with the beasts in the air. Soundwave faced them without pause, his attacks relentless and fierce.

"Arcee!" a voice screamed, catching her attention.

She scrambled to her pedes quickly, looking for the sound of the voice. She spotted Ark, who was running towards her quickly, sniper rifle aimed and ready. A red mech followed closely behind her, though he seemed hesitant yet eager.

"Ark!" Arcee shouted as she ran towards her with Frenzy following quickly. She blinked when she realized the mech with Ark was Knock Out. "Why would you bring Knock Out with you? How did you-?"

"Frenzy contacted Soundwave," Ark said in a rush, placing herself protectively in front of Arcee. "Here, arm yourself," Ark ordered, passing ammunition to Arcee who quickly accepted it. The dark femme's optics narrowed as she took aim at the one beast trying to escape.

"He's got Moonracer!" Arcee shouted as she was traped to watch her friend being carried away.

"I know," Ark said grimly, sniper rifle following the beast, ready to shoot.

"Wait!" Arcee shouted, pushing Ark aside quickly. "You might hit her!"

"If I don't do anything, she will be dead," Ark stated sharply.

"Might I suggest we make a hasty retreat?" Knock Out snapped. "We got what we came for, and the longer we stay, the more danger my paint job is in."

"I am not leaving without Moonracer," Arcee snapped, breaking into a run and ignoring the startled shouts she left behind. She grabbed a startled Frenzy, hefting him over her shoulder. "Contact Daddy and tell him I have a job for him," she snapped to Frenzy. "I need an explosive groundbridge."

Frenzy's mouth was open in shock. "A...but we haven't done that in-"

"Tell him now!" Arcee shouted, dropping him and transforming into her vehicle form. She drove off as quickly as she could, the ground becoming dust with the speed she traveled. She did not stop until the edge of the cliff was near her. Stopping, she transformed once more, surveying her surroundings quickly.

 _"Um, I told Daddy about the groundbridge,"_ Frenzy said through the comm link. _"But I-"_

"Good," Arcee said, shutting him off. Looking upward where she saw Soundwave, she let out a deep breath, hoping her hastily formed plan would save Moonracer, rather then kill her. She had only ever performed an explosive ground bridge twice in her lifetime with Soundwave, both for different reasons. She hoped nothing had changed with the dangerous technique.

With those thoughts in mind, she grimly activated the bomb and threw it with as much strength she possessed.

The bomb sailed upward, straight and true.

She activated her comm link when she saw the Decepticon break off from his attack with the beast. "Soundwave! Ground bridge now!"

Soundwave transformed mid flight in response, twisting his body in ways she had only rarely seen him do before. Left servo outstretched, a ground bridge opened to swallow the bomb. As Soundwave fell from such a height, he stretched out his right servo and activated a second ground bridge. The second bridge opened right above the beast carrying Moonracer, the bomb falling through.

The sky shook as the bomb exploded with such force. The beast shrieked as fire rained down on it and it fell from the sky. Arcee's smile of triumph was short lived when the predacon Soundwave had previously been keeping busy turned its attention on her.

She barely had time to scramble back before fire pelted the fragile cliff she had been standing on. She let out a startled shout as the ground crumbled beneath her. She scrambled against the rocks and dirt, latching onto anything firm and stable. She let out a breath when her servos finally found something to hold onto, and her deadly descent to the treacherous ground below was halted for a brief moment.

"Oh Primus," she muttered in fear, sparking pumping. She could feel her grip loosening and she focused her gaze upward, refusing to look down.

But as she looked up, she saw the beast fall from the sky from the effects of the bomb, Moonracer falling with it. In that moment, she feared more for Moonracer then she did for her own life at that moment.

"Soundwave, no!" she shouted when she noticed Soundwave flying toward her. He was still in the air, and he was close enough to hear her. "Soundwave, save Moonracer!"

But Soundwave did not alter his direction. He was still flying toward her. With every second, Moonracer's doom was immanent, and Arcee's grip loosened even more.

"Soundwave save the femme!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the canyon. "Save the femme!" Her voice grew desperate. "Please!"

To her immense shock and relief, Soundwave turned off sharply, heading right toward Moonracer. Arcee did not even have the opportunity to let out a breath of relief as the dirt beneath her servos crumbled, and she lost her hold.

She refused to scream. To do so would bring Soundwave right back to her. He would chose to save her over Moonracer. She knew it.

But that did not stop the terrified gasp wrenching out of her mouth. The ground was racing to embrace her, she could feel the air wrap around her, eager to pull her down to her quick death.

Yet the claws of doom snatched her away first. This time, she did scream as the remaining beast grabbed her. She looked up in horror, realizing that death would come after her in many forms.

* * *

When he had received word from Frenzy that Arcee was in danger, he had not hesitated to act. The ground bridge had been opened in seconds, and he was rushing through it with the intent to kill.

How the predacons were found out, or why they were making themselves known, did not matter to him. What mattered was that Arcee was in the claws of one of those beasts, and he would not let her remain in danger any longer.

His attacks had been quick and sure. He only had one thought in mind: To punish those beasts for even thinking of harming the sparkling who had not shied away from his damaged face. These predacons, the ones that were meant to remain a secret, dared to harm Arcee.

Primus, Megatron was going to have a field day with this.

But Megatron was the least of his worries. Something else the warlord would be amused to hear.

But at the moment, it was that young femme who was dangling at the edge of the cliff, holding on for dear life, that was his worries.

Yet she threw away her own life, ordering him to instead save the other femme.

 _"Soundwave, save the femme! Please!"_

He had obeyed, only because he thought he could make it back to Arcee. He had flown toward Moonracer, activating a ground bridge before transforming into the air and falling in his mech form so as to have a better vantage point. He focused his masked gaze on Arcee just in time to see her fall, but his ground bridge was open beneath her and ready to catch her.

But the predacon had snatched her away.

Rage had filled him, it consumed him just as the fire that was now washing over him. Yet multiple priorities were at the forefront of his mind as his armor shifted and burned with the predacon fire he was now a victim of. In just a matter of seconds, multiple actions were committed.

Moonracer was ground bridged to safety, he was sure of it.

He had located Ark and the doctor, ground bridging them both to a safe location just as the cliffs they were on crumbled into dust under the fierce attack of the predacons.

Finally, he focused on Arcee's life signature, ignoring his pain as he always did. The green vortex of a portal opened up, swallowing him whole and ending the pain of the fire for a blissful moment.

* * *

Predaking had flown ahead, leaving Bumblebee and Smokescreen still in sight, but falling behind.

Bumblebee huffed, feeling his wings trembled. Aside from hovering, he had not really flown this far. Or far at all. He had thought this would have been a great opportunity for him to speak with Smokescreen without being watched, but the device on their necks and the effort it took to fly prevented them from even sharing pleasantries.

 _"This flight will kill me!"_ Smokescreen gasped, though he pushed on, trying to follow Predaking.

Bumblebee did not answer, though he wanted to. But the focus on the flight took too much effort out of him. Instead, he just nodded, but even that caused him to waiver in mid air. He gulped, trying not to think of the height he was traveling. How was it that he had been teasing Smokescreen about his fear of heights, and here he was plagued with the same fear now?

Sounds of blaster fire and roars filled with pain and fury filled his enhanced hearing. He glanced up to see not too far in the distance fire and the streaks of blue blaster bolts. Bumblebee's spark hammered with concern while questions filled him. What had Skylynx and Darksteel gotten themselves into?

Also, another much more important question: Could Bumblebee and Smokescreen fake a 'capture' and allow the Autobots and Decepticons to find them? Perhaps whoever was confronting Skylynx and Darksteel could 'capture' a 'careless' Bee and Smokes, and they would be rescued. It would solve their problems, though that would mean leaving Firestar behind.

 _"Whatever happens, do not hesitate to escape. Forget about what you leave behind. Escape when you can."_

He shook his helm. Could he do it? Could he knowingly leave a comrade behind? If he and Smokescreen did escape, that would leave Firestar behind to face the consequences. The cruelest of punishments and ways of death would be inflicted on her.

His resolve grew stronger. No, he would not leave her behind. Just as he would not leave Smokescreen behind. They were all escaping, just as they were all in this. He had told Firestar that he had her back, and he meant it. That meant he would come back for her.

 _"Fools!"_

Bumblebee and Smokescreen came to a halt, flapping madly in the air when Predaking's roar startled them. But Bumblebee realized that the roar was not directed at them, but rather, at the two predacons flying toward them with such speed. Bumblebee noticed with dread the small figure in Darksteel's claws.

Another victim. One more to be brutally tortured and transformed.

But it also meant another ally for them.

The three older predacons flew sharply upward, vanishing into the clouds. Bumblebee and Smokescreen hastily followed, both desperate not to get lost.

Though would that be a bad thing? He would have to remember that strategy when he patrolled with Smokescreen and Firestar. The three of them could use that to their advantage.

Cliffs covered by thick fog and smoke from the dormant lava hidden in the mountains offered them the best cover, but Bumblebee wondered why they chose to stop here for the moment rather then head back to base. But his aching wings were eager for rest the minute his clawed pedes touched the ground.

He was by no means out of shape as a mech. But as a predacon, he was in need of some practice. It was obvious that the same applied to Smokescreen, who collapsed in the ashy ground, chassis heaving.

 _"Let her go!"_

Both Bumblebee and Smokescreen looked sharply at Predaking, who was towering over Skylynx and Darksteel, the later who's clawed pedes held the small Cybertronian in place.

Darksteel bristled. _"No! She attacked and saw us-"_

 _"As did many others! We were not to be seen, to leave no witnesses! You should have killed everyone there! Are you aware of what you have compromised?"_ Predaking roared. _"You fools! Do you realize what you have done?"_

Darksteel scoffed. _"Well, I was not about to let her go after what she did to Skylynx's optic!"_

Predaking growled, armor trembling with barely concealed rage.

 _"And we make quick work of the faceless mech,"_ Darksteel continued. _"After catching the other one from the sky, he tried to chase after us." He chuckled. "We taught him a lesson he might not recover from."_

Bumblebee's interest was aroused. Faceless mech? Could they mean…?

 _"Is that so?"_ Predaking asked after a lengthy moment of silence.

 _"Everyone else is buried beneath the mountain,"_ Skylynx grumbled and Bumblebee noticed how heavily his optic was damaged.

Predaking seemed somewhat appeased, but there was still a bite in his tone. _"You were still foolish and will answer for your carelessness."_

Darksteel chuckled, claws flexing as the Cybertronian he held captive let out a yell. _"No loose ends,"_ he purred, releasing the Cybertronian who leaped forward, seizing the chance to escape. The blue femme unsheathed her blades, familiar blue optics that were so fierce that it caught Bumblebee by surprise. In that moment, she turned that cold gaze on him, and his spark nearly stopped.

 _"No survivors,"_ Darksteel said, fire building within his chassis.

 _"Wait!"_ Bumblebee screamed, flying towards her with urgency. _"Arcee!"_


	32. Chapter 31

He did not think.

He did not even hesitate.

But he was aware. He was aware of the fire building up in Darksteel's chassis. He was aware of the danger she was in and how she would surely melt under such fire.

His spark hammered in his chassis as he launched forward, a roar tearing through his throat as he closed the distance between himself and Arcee. He saw how her optics widened in horror as he flew toward her. He saw how her blasters were raising at him, ready to shoot, to kill.

But that did not matter to him. She could shoot him in his chassis, and he would still charge toward her to protect her to the best of his ability.

Finally, he reached her, slamming into Arcee at such full force that it sent her falling to the ground. With his claw, he grabbed her and covered her with his wings as he stumbled out of the way of Darksteel's fire.

In that moment, he felt his armor shift from predacon to Cybertronian form. His claws become deformed servos, his wings folded into his back, and he decreased in height. After mere moments, he was standing with a struggling Arcee in his arms. Her narrowed optics flew open, wide with shock as she looked at him.

He wanted to speak her name, to ease her worries, to protect her. Yet he could not. The device on his voice box was a threat. Every word he said was monitored.

Arcee ceased her struggling, looking at him with wide optics, disbelief crossing her features. Her mouth was open, his name forming on her lips, and he reacted just as he had when Darksteel had threatened her life in that moment. He acted rashly as he pulled her closer to his beating spark.

And kissed her.

It was to keep her silent so that Antagony would not be made aware of her presence, but it was also a guilty pleasure that he had so yearned for. He pulled her closer, feeling her shock, but she did not pull back. But it was a brief reunion, as something within him arose as he pulled away, watching how she observed him with surprise and hope. He was reminded of a threat, of possible enemies who were a threat to his life.

And Arcee's.

A growl escaped his throat as he turned to glare at Predaking who thundered toward him, wings flapping. Bumblebee pushed Arcee back, feeling his armor shift as he transformed once more, a roar bursting forth as a challenge to Predaking.

 _"You will not harm her!"_ he shouted.

 _"She is a witness who must perish,"_ Predaking growled.

 _"She is my sparkmate,"_ Bumblebee declared, optics narrowed. He could faintly hear Smokescreen's startled gasp, but he did not care about the lie he had just told. These beings were a threat to Arcee, and he would do anything to protect her. An animalistic feeling roared and consumed his very being, so much so that his very being trembled with barely contained power. In this moment, he felt as if he could take on all the predacons present. They had threatened what was his. All who dared to do so would meet a swift end.

Of that he would ensure.

 _"Sparkmate?"_ Skylynx growled, but there was shock in his voice. _"Then you cannot be the Heir!"_

 _"Then there is no point in keeping him alive,"_ Darksteel growled.

 _"No!"_ Predaking roared, turning suddenly to snarl at the two. _"Dark One, you shall not touch your brother, nor his mate. Am I clear? They are of our race and shall not be harmed."_

Darksteel bristled. _"You threaten them, and now you defend them?"_

 _"Am I clear?"_ Predaking snarled, fire building within his chassis as he regarded Darksteel.

Silence reigned, and Darksteel shrunk back, helm lowered in submission. _"Understood, my king."_

Something brushed up against Bumblebee's armor, and he looked down to see Arcee staring up at him with hostile wariness. Her right servo was formed into a blaster, yet her left servo slowly reached out for him. No word escaped her, shock clearly overcoming her.

He leaned toward her, his predacon helm a good distance from her, least he get a blaster bolt in the optic. But he wanted to transform, to hold her, to kiss her again. His armor trembled with the anticipation of transforming once again, yet he did not. He could not. Doing so would risk revealing who Arcee was to Antagony.

Yet despair filled him. Antagony already knew. She was listening in to their conversation.

Yet his determination came in full force. Antagony did not have a name to the femme Bumblebee had so boldly claimed as his mate. That would keep Arcee safe.

Arcee approached him, optics searching. She found her voice, ready to speak to him, ready to grace him with that voice he wanted to hear so much.

But he could not. Antagony could trace the voice.

Quickly, he growled, causing Arcee to speedily raise her blaster at him, optics narrowed. He bowed his helm, quickly scratching in the dirt. His actions caught Arcee's attention, who watched him warily.

 **Do not speak,** he quickly wrote, glancing up at her. Relief flooded through him as he saw the thoughtfulness in her optics. She glanced up at him, to which he quickly nodded. Sudden despair came through him. What could he tell her? There was so much he wanted to express to her. Yet writing in the dirt did not seem the best way to profess how much he missed her, how strong his feelings were.

 _"Give her a mission,"_ Smokescreen said suddenly, breaking through his muddled thoughts. _"She could be the key to patch this psychic game of traitors."_

Confusion filled him as he glanced at Smokescreen who stared at him knowingly, as if he had a secret only intended for his friend. Yet the approaching sound of Predaking coming near spurred him into further action. As he swiped at the previous message, he was filled with the cryptic understanding of Smokescreen's message.

Key. Patch. Psychic. Traitors.

He hastily scribbled down in the dirt, quick and sloppily. Yet Arcee's silent optics never left his actions.

 **Find the Key of Primes. Destroy cortical psychic patch.**

 _"It is time to go,"_ Predaking said, his voice breaking through the fragile stillness. _"Say your farewells."_

Not yet! There was so much he had to tell her, so much he needed to say. Yet his traitorous claw did not follow his spark, but only his helm. But Arcee focused on the next, crucial part in his message. A message that did not convey his feelings, but what needed to be done.

 **Traitor. Senti-**

He never got to finish it, as a ground bridge opened up suddenly, and a dark mech charged through. Predaking and the predacons let out startled roars as they launched into the air. Smokescreen scrambled toward Bumblebee, who tried to reach Arcee who turned to face the mech who had just emerged through the bridge.

 _"We need to go!"_ Smokescreen shouted, but Bumblebee would not move, except toward Arcee. His instinct took over, and that was to protect her from the sudden, harsh blaster fire that pelted his beastly armor.

Claws wrapped around him and lifted him from the ground and away from Arcee. A cry of pain escaped him, a cry that matched Arcee's as she raced toward him. Yet the dark mech grabbed her and pulled her back. Her cries turned into screams as she struggled, yet the strength of the mech was greater.

Rage filled him as he saw the mech who was restraining her. Yet the very same beasts who had carried him to his doom now kept him restrained and only carried him farther away.

 _"Pull yourself together!"_ Predaking snarled, and Bumblebee was made instantly aware that it was the larger predacon who was carrying him. _"That mech will kill us all if we were to return."_

Not a bad thing, in Bumblebee's opinion. He frantically searched for Arcee through the thick, smoky covering that now blocked his sight. Yet it was all fuitale. He could not see her.

After seeing her, after getting a brief chance to hold her and warn her of the dangers, he was taken away again by the predacons.

* * *

It was her every intent to rush forward and try to get Bumblebee back. At least, she assumed that beast was Bumblebee. She had seen him for a moment! And yet, she could not be sure that the mech who had held her, who had so passionately kissed her, had been the mech she had mourned for.

Yet for all her uncertainties, she had still tried to follow him, to chase him down. Not for the first time, she cursed the untimely manner of Soundwave.

She slumped against his chassis in defeat when she had exhausted her strength, the masked mech not letting her go for even a moment. His grip did not even loosen even when the beat of the beast's wings faded away. Her knees trembled, weak and tired as her spark pulsed painfully within her chassis. She took in a deep shuddering breath that turned into a choke, all her painful memories and feelings coming forth.

"You can let me go," she said, her voice hoarse.

Soundwave reluctantly loosened his tight death-like grip on her, but he did not let her go as he slowly lowered her down to the ground. He finally released her and walked around, giving her some space. As her knees hit the ground, her optics flickered over to the patch of dirt Bumblebee had been writing in. Whatever he had tried to warn her about, his last message had been destroyed from Soundwave's sudden entrance. His violent attack had startled even her, yet his presence had startled off those winged beasts, prompting them to take Bumblebee.

That winged mech, the one who had warned her, was Bumblebee. She was sure of it.

She looked up at Soundwave, who was examining the area with a frozen, still caution. He did not move anything but his helm, and she noticed his empty chassis where Laserbeak usually resided in. She concluded that the minicon was most likely patrolling around.

"How did you find me?" she asked.

Soundwave turned to look at her, his damaged visor displaying a set of locations with her spark signature glowing green.

"You tracked me," she stated, her tone flat.

His answer was silent enough.

"How could you be tracking me?" she demanded, her voice nearly reaching hysterics. The fact that Soundwave could track her was not the most planet shattering event that had happened. Her processor felt like it was going to crash, yet she could only focus on the present moment and what was in front of her.

 _"Tracked you since you were a sparkling,"_ came his cryptic, recorded message.

"So you could always monitor me?" she demanded.

 _"So we could always find you,"_ he stated after a small pause.

She released a trembling breath, finally taking in his appearance. "You're hurt," she stated. His normally glistening armor was now charred black and smoking from fire, small bits of energon leaking from his wounds; wounds she could not identify where they were coming from. The screen of his helm was cracked, and the metal of his armor curled from the previous heat he had been tormented under.

The full extent of his injuries finally occurred to Arcee, and her optics widened in horror. "You're hurt!" she exclaimed, urgency in her tone this time as she scrambled up and tried to approach him. Yet as she approached him, he walked away, coordinates showing up on his flickering visor. "Soundwave," she started, uncertain where to start. He glanced at her, his helm cocked in a silent challenge, and she fell silent. Instead, she followed him, watching him with concern.

Finally, a ground bridge opened up, and Arcee followed him through. "Soundwave," she finally said. "Those were predacons, were they not?"

He continued to stride toward the canyon, and she could hear the faint sounds of someone shrieking. Her concern for whoever was in peril temporarily replaced her questions, yet her determination grew. "Soundwave!" she shouted, reaching him in two long strides. She grabbed his arm, barely noticing the slight winch he gave off. "I need answers, and you seem to be the only one who can answer them." She glanced down, slowly withdrawing her servo that was sticky with energon.

Energon that was leaking through Soundwave's wounds.

She hesitated. "Later," she finally agreed, concern washing over her. She suddenly looked up, her worry increasing as the screeching grew louder.

"Soundwave!" a sudden voice shrieked. A silver blur rushed towards them from up the canyon as Frenzy rached in their direction. "Thank Primus you are here! The mean green femme and scary lady are-!"

"Down to the Pitts femme!" a screech exclaimed as another being marched uphill. Arcee blinked as she took in Knock Out, who was scowling at Ark who followed camly behind. She was followed by a shaky Moonracer, and Arcee felt relief in seeing that Moonracer was alright.

"You!" Knock Out snarled, storming at Soundwave who did not flinch as the medic got into his face. "You could not have bridged us somewhere else? Nope! You had to bridge us beneath the mountain where my paint was ruined! The company I kept could have cared less and dragged me through the rubble!"

"Stop complaining. You are alive," Ark said simply to the doctor. Her optics flickered to Arcee, her mouth twitching as her stance relaxed slightly. "We all are."

"He need a medic," Arcee said firmly, servo reaching up to touch Soundwave, but then dropping back down. She looked at Knock Out pointedly.

He huffed, crossing his damaged arms. "Well, find someone else."

"He can barely stand," Arcee said, trying not to sound like she was begging. Yet the energon seeping from his wounds had yet to stop, and she found herself staring at them with concern plainly written across her face. Soundwave jerked away from her, and she could tell how insulted he was about her comment. Straightening up, he stalked away, servos flickering at Frenzy who nodded in understanding. "Got it daddy. Communicate with the boss." With that, Frenzy set up with building a connection with anyone nearby while Soundwave worked on opening another ground bridge.

"Soundwave is a gladiator," Ark stated, coming to stand beside Arcee, where she belonged. "He would walk through the Pit if need be."

"He just did," Arcee stated as the ground bridge opened up. And if she did not get answers soon, she would drag him through the Pit once more. "What did you find with Knock Out during your search?" Arcee asked.

"Not much. Maybe a possible lead. You?"

"I found more questions than answers," Arcee said. "And I need those answers."

"It is a good thing I can extract what you need," Ark stated.

Arcee frowned doubtfully. "Can you use your skills on Megatron?" If she needed answers, then she might as well go straight to the head of it all. Who was more knowledgeable about this decit then the Decepticon leader himself?

* * *

Bumblebee had ceased his struggling and was finally allowed to fly on his own. Everyone was silent during the flight. Smokescreen drifted toward Bumblebeee, as if to offer silent support. Yet Bumblebee's processor whirled with questions. Did Arcee understand what he had tried to warn her of? Would she act on the warnings? Was she alright?

Predaking'a rousing roar pulled him sharply from his thoughts, and he looked up at the leader who was hovering in front of them.

 _"Continue on,"_ Predaking said, gesturing his predacon helm back toward the hidden base. It was up until now that he noticed how cleverly hidden it was. In the dormant volcanic mountain that was hidden beneath ash and many mounds of boulders, one would never think of holding up base in such an unstable area. Hidden passages designed to look like boulders were in plain view that only the trained optic would see. Yet, the only way in was through the air. There was no ground entrance.

 _"You,"_ Predaking said, his voice cutting through Bumblebee who had started to follow the others. _"Follow me."_

Bumblebee glanced at Smokescreen who gave him a worried glance. Yet Darksteel and Skylynx herded him on toward the mountain, despite Smokescreen's loud protests. Bumblebee quickly turned with difficulty in the air and followed after Predaking. He glided through the sky, worry filling him.

They did not fly far when they landed atop a small incline of a hill that overlooked a valley. Predaking surveyed the valley, wings stiff as Bumblebee hesitantly approached him. He glanced down, noting with sudden grimness the land that was scattered with bones stuck on the hard ground. He briefly wondered what burial mound this was, and why it was so important.

 _"The graveyard of our race,"_ Predaking said, answering Bumblebee's question. _"We are a living miracle that there is hope for a once dead kingdom."_

"They are your people," Bumblebee said. "Not mine."

 _"No,"_ Predaking said, surprising Bumblebee. _"I suppose not. I was born from their very bones, as were my brothers. You and your comrades were created into their form."_ He unfolded his wings, stance slightly relaxed. _"But that does not change the fact that you are one of us now. Our energon is your energon. The bones of our very brothers gives you strength, and you are under my protection, as are your entire clan."_

Bumblebee blinked in confusion. _"My clan?"_

 _"Your mate, your offspring. What ever you may call it,"_ Predaking said casually. _"Though I would advise you to keep such knowledge to yourself."_

 _"Everyone knows,"_ Bumblebee said. Whether it was a lie or not, Arcee was in danger now because he had proclaimed a falsehood about him and Arcee. To protect her in the moment, he had doomed her for a lifetime. _"Antagony heard it all as she hears our conversation now."_

 _"You think she understand our language?"_ Predaking asked suddenly, a note of amusement in his tone.

Bumblebee jerked back to sharply look at Predaking who now looked regal in the dim lighting, overseeing a valley of bones.

 _"She does not know?"_ he demanded, aghast.

 _"No Cybertronian will be able to understand the language of the predacons,"_ Predaking said. _"Not even a witch."_

Relief filled Bumblebee with this new revelation. He breathed in deeply, new possibilities flooding through him. _"She does not suspect?"_

 _"That we can communicate? No. We are midnless beasts to her in this form. But we must be desecrate to avoid suspicion. If she were to suspect that we can in fact communicate, then all that I have built would have come to ruin."_

 _"A hidden king,"_ Bumblebee mused thoughtfully. Yet wariness filled him. _"Why are you telling me this?"_

 _"A king needs powerful allies,"_ Predaking answered. _"A king needs numbers on his side to overthrow the tyrant and reclaim the throne."_

 _"Or would I replace one tyrant for another?"_ Bumblebee questioned, a challenge in his voice.

 _"Which tyrant would you prefer?"_ Predaking challenged back.

 _"Not the one who wants me dead,"_ Bumblebee admitted. Thoughts and plans were taking shape and reforming. Yet this was not something to take lightly at all. He glanced back down at the valley of the predacon bones, and he wondered what a future would be like if creatures like Predaking were to roam Cybertron once more. In such a short moment, many paths were open up to him.

 _"You have given me much to think about,"_ Bumblebee said finally.

 _"I would hope so,"_ Predaking said. _"Your mate keeps powerful company, and the surveillance chief of the Decepticon leader is a welcome ally."_

Bumblebee blinked. Surveillance chief?

Suddenly, Bumblebee chuckled. _"You think that my mate can intercede for you when the Decepticons come hunting you all down?"_ Now this meeting made sense.

But Predaking did not look concerned at Bumblebee's lack of sudden interest. _"No, I expect for you to be the one to intercede for me and my kind."_

Bumblebee was suddenly filled with caution. _"What could I possibly do?"_

Pradaking chuckled, and it sent chills down Bumblebee's spine. " _The arrival of the surveillance chief told me all I needed to know about who you are."_ Predaking suddenly looked at him with a cold, calculated expression. Despite the brightness of his golden optics, there was no warmth in those depths. _"You could do very much as the Autobot Heir."_


	33. Chapter 32

**Author's Notes: Thank God in Heaven! I am on a roll with these updates! Hopefully I don't jinx it! XD Thank you all for the favs, follows and reviews! It means a lot to me. God Bless and enjoy reading!**

* * *

Arcee's optics kept flickering over to observe KnockOut who was reluctantly hovering over a med bay table where Soundwave rested. The masked mech said nothing as the red doctor set to work patching him up, though KnockOut was very vocal about his displeasure.

"I should be the one getting a treatment," he huffed. "I cannot be seen in such a state! I have a reputation to uphold."

"It's a wonder you even survived the war," Moonracer muttered, speaking up for the first time. Arcee glanced over to Moonracer, who had her arms wrapped around herself in an almost self assuring embrace. In the dark med bay, she looked fragile, and Arcee had to wonder if she herself looked any different.

"Are you alright?" Arcee asked softly, her question directed at Moonracer. She was aware that everyone had been checked over for injuries, but Moonracer herself still seemed shaken up.

"I'm fine," Moonracer said curtly.

Arcee looked away, aware that her questions were not wanted. She could feel Ark's gaze on her, and she was aware that the other femme was preparing to ask questions.

But Arcee was faster.

"What did you and KnockOut find?" she asked quickly, looking at Ark who sat beside her in silence.

In response, Ark reached behind her to withdraw a datapad. The screen illuminated her face in a soft, green glow as she pulled up a list. "KnockOut and I were able to compile a list of possible leads to who may be responsible to the attack during the hunt."

Arcee blinked as she took the list. "How were you able to come to such conclusions?"

"We followed the money trail, the motives." Ark hesitated slightly. "Among other things."

"You might want to mark those who are connected to scientists," Arcee stated as she scrolled through the list.

"What were those creatures?" Moonracer demanded suddenly, catching everyones attention. "What were they?"

"The very ones who attacked the Selecteds during the hunt," Arcee answered, her voice grim. The words of that dead mech she had found on that fateful day came back to her.

Beasts. Fire. Screams. Death.

There was no doubt in her mind that those beasts, those predacons, were responsible for such death and destruction. They had leaped from the pages of history itself to terrorise the present. Somehow, Bumblebee was one of them. He was a prisoner, one who had tried to protect her. He had tried to escape, and she had done nothing and let him go.

But he had also tried to warn her.

She frowned thoughtfully, Bumblebee's current inscriptions coming to the forefront of her mind. There were three major points she needed to address, and she needed to make sense of it all.

"What does 'the Key of Primes' mean to you?" she asked, looking around the room.

Knock Out shrugged, disinterested. Ark frowned. "The Omega Keys?"

Arcee pursed her mouth. "Maybe," she admitted. Yet she glanced at Moonracer, an Autobot like Bumblebee who looked alert at the moment.

Moonracer caught Arcee staring, and neither femme broke their gaze. "It could mean many things," Moonracer admitted thoughtfully. "There are many relics that belonged to the Primes of old during the golden age of Cybertron. Most of those relics could have resembled keys."

"But what connection do they have with the Autobots?" Arcee pressed. At Moonracer's hesitant pause, Arcee continued. "This may very well be important to what I have discovered. We need to share all the information we have gathered to piece together a bigger picture. But we cannot do that if we withhold secrets."

Moonracer released a breath. "Fine. It is not like no one knows about this anyway." She shook her helm. "I could be wrong, but when I think of 'the Key of Primes,' I think of the Key to Vector Sigma. It is a key that unlocks the collective wisdom of the Primes."

Arcee went still. "What could one do with such a key?" she asked.

"Really Arcee?" KnockOut scoffed, glancing at her.

"Humor me," she snapped, glaring at him before focusing on Moonracer. "What could happen to the Key, if it were in the wrong company?"

Moonracer's frown deepened. "With the Key, one could locate Vector Sigma and gain all the knowledge a Prime alone should obtain. Secrets of toppling empires and planets would be in the servos of anyone who wielded the Key."

"Traditionally," Ark spoke up. "The Key was only passed down from a senior Prime to the younger as a sign of trust."

Which answered Arcee's next question. "Where is the Key now?"

"No one knows," Moonracer answered. "Optimus Prime could have it, as a Prime is never without it. Or he could have passed it down to the Autobot Heir."

The situation just grew graver. She had to broach her next question without seeming to obvious. Maybe the Key to Vector Sigma was not what Bumblebee had tried to warn her about, but she still had to search for it. "Where would the belongings of the deceased Selected members have gone to?"

"To their families," Moonracer answered, as if it were obvious.

Which meant, that if she was interpreting Bumblebee's message right, that Optimus and already had possession to the Key to Vector Sigma. As far as she knew, the Key was in good servos.

"What do any of you know about the cortical psychic patch?" she asked suddenly.

"Why are you asking these types of questions?" Moonracer demanded, optics narrowed.

Arcee barely resisted hissing in frustration. However, she could understand Moonracer's reason for asking. If she was in the femme's place, she would also demand answers. After all, none of this seemed to be going anywhere.

She released a breath, lowering her helm as her thoughts raced. She gathered her thoughts quickly. Revealing that Bumblebee was alive would lead to many questions she could not answer. She herself did not fully believe how she could word her explanation in a way that would not make her sound like a lunatic.

"I might a prisoner of the predacons during my brief capture," she said after a moment. "He warned me to 'Find the Key of the Primes' and to find the cortical psychic patch. He also warned me about a possible traitor."

Ark tilted her helm, interest sparking in her optics. "Who is the traitor?"

Arcee shook her helm. "He never finished his message." She nodded her helm to where Soundwave was watching her. "We were interrupted. However, I did get part of a message. Or, part of a name."

"What kind of name?" Ark inquired.

"S.E.N.T.I," Arcee answered.

KnockOut huffed. "Well, that should narrow it down."

"Considerably," Ark commented, folding her arms. Whereas KnockOut had sounded sarcastic, Ark had sounded thoughtful, and Arcee could see the femme already withdraw into her own mind, lost in thought as she analyzed everything.

"How can you even be sure that this 'prisoner' you met is trustworthy?" Moonracer demanded.

Arcee felt a pit of dread spread throughout her. This was the moment when everything would come crashing down. Different reactions would be displayed, demands for action would be heard. Yet, there would be uncertainty. But of this, Arcee was sure of; she could not keep this information from Moonracer. It affected her as much as it affected Arcee.

With a calm composure and a clear helm, Arcee looked Moonracer in the optic. "Because the prisoner I met was Bumblebee."

* * *

The cavern was silent as a sense of dread hovered over everyone. Smokescreen fiddled nervously with a rock that had fallen from the walls. Firestar twitched as the sound of the rock grated on her nerves.

Bumblebee half expected Antagony to come storming down the halls with eh knowledge of their dangerous secrets fresh on her mind. But the halls remained empty, void of any sound except for Smokescreens nervous twitching.

Firestar finally swatted the stone out of his claws. " _Would you stop that?"_ she snapped. _"You are getting on my nerves and making this worse!"_

Smokescreen's only response was to huff and sit back. After a moment, he began to idly play with his tail while glaring Firestar as if he was daring her to make a comment.

 _"Can you even trust them?"_ Firestar asked, turning to regard Bumblebee.

He had told them everything that had happened between him and Predaking. Well, except for the revelation that he was the Heir. The less Smokescreen and Firestar knew about that truth, the better. It was one less thing for them to hold under torture. After Predaking had revealed that he had known about Bumblebee since Soundwave's arrival to rescue Arcee, he had made his demands clear: They were to work together to overthrow the witch and Sentinel. Predaking needed the numbers, and Bumblebee and his companions needed the protection. Both could be granted if a compromise was made. It seemed reasonable and simple, but Bumblebee had never trusted simple.

 _"I trust you two,"_ he said finally, looking up at them. _"And I do know that our options are limited. We need to get out of here, and we need to do it quickly."_

 _"The fact that they left us to ourselves is surprising,"_ Smokescreen huffed. He glanced down the halls, as if he was expecting Predaking to be lurking in the shadows. Smokescreen had not outright asked Bumblebee about the kiss he had seen, and Bumblebee was glad that he had not. Though he knew Smokescreen would demand answers later, though he had not seen too shocked.

 _"If Predaking hates Antagony and wants out, it may be best to work with the predacons temporarily,"_ Firestar said.

 _"The enemy of my enemy is my friend,"_ Smokescreen stated. He glanced at Bumblebee. _"What do you think Antagony will do when she has the cortical psychic patch?"_

 _"Besides the obvious? She will use it to extract every bit of information from our helms, and find out who the Heir is,"_ Bumblebee said.

 _"Um, that is the obvious,"_ Smokescreen stated.

Firestar unfurled her wings, rising to her full predacon height. _"Well, I am going to set out to extract some information from a certain predacon,"_ she announced.

Both Bumblebee and Smokescreen blinked as they stared at her. _"What are you hoping to gain from the predacons?"_

 _"I just told you,"_ she stated. _"Information."_

 _"They won't tell you anything,"_ Bumblebee said firmly.

But Firestar's optics narrowed and her armor thrummed with anticipation. _"They will for me. They will have no choice but to listen to what I have to say."_

Smokescreen scoffed. _"And why would that be?"_

What Firestar said next sent Bumblebee reeling with shock at her sudden bold declaration. At first, he had not been so sure he had heard her correctly, but Smokescreens roar of surprise confirmed that he had indeed heard correctly.

 _"Because I am the Autobot Heir,"_ she said with certainty.

* * *

Arcee was alone as she strode down the halls, her errand all too fresh in her mind. She had to admit, KnockOut was devious when it came to certain details. She just hoped that his little plan would work. She winced as she remembered Moonracer's reaction to the revelation of Bumblebee's presence. But Arcee pushed that thought and unpleasant memory away. She had other things to worry about, and an emotional femme could wait. When Bumblebee was back with them, then Arcee would allow herself to care. But right now, her detachment was all that was keeping her moving.

If she continued like this, she would end up much like the emotionless mech she was getting ready to meet.

With a deep breath, she strode into Shockwave's laboratory. There, hunched over his work, was the scientist himself. The darkness no longer held an illusion of control over her. Rather, she welcomed the dark as it allowed her to hide, to meld and become a part of it. She could use it.

She strode forward, and the slight twitch of Shockwave's helm was a clear indication that he was aware of her presence. Yet he still would not acknowledge her, he refused to address her in anyway.

Well, that would change.

"What can you tell me about the predacons?" she asked.

"Everything," came the simple answer.

She pulled up a chair, sitting down with ease. "Then we will be here for a while."

"I am unauthorized to discuss such matters of security with you," he stated, finally looking at her.

"Actually, I am now authorized by Megatron himself to be let in on this vast information," she said simply, unable to keep the hint of triumph from her voice as she slid the datapad over for Shockwave to look at. He did not even touch it. "The details are inside. Instead of telling me himself, Megatron had suggested I speak with an expert." This time, she smirked. "Your name was on the top of that list. In fact," she paused. "It was the only name on that list."

Shockwave was silent for a moment as he regarded the datapad in front of him. "Lord Megatron's orders are quite illogical."

"Yet they are his orders," Arcee responded. "What can you tell me about the predacons?"

The silence had stretched on for so long that Arcee feared that he had chosen not to answer. But finally, he spoke. "Project Predacon was set into motion during the highlight of the war," he stated. "By exploring the CNA of predacon bones, I had successfully been able to create clones of the predacons."

"Then why is it that Project Predacon was not used during the war?" she asked. By all accounts, it did not make sense. With the indestructible predacons on their side, the Decepticons would have certainly won the war.

"Our first lab was destroyed by a raid during the war by a team of Wreckers," he answered. "However, a few samples survived, including one test subject. I had managed to replicate my creation, yet they were displaying massive amounts of intelligence, and by the end of the war, Megatron had ordered for Project Predacon to be destroyed."

Arcee was silent. "And the test subjects?"

"They could not be destroyed so easily." Shockwave's tone did not change in the slightest, and it unnerved Arcee at how detached he seemed to be when talking about the clones in such a dismissive manner. "A plan was conducted," he continued. "To exterminate the remaining clones. But before further action could be taken, our base was attacked."

Arcee's optics narrowed. "Attacked by whom?"

"The very same who did not wish to see a mutual peace between Autobots and Decepticons," Shockwave said. "All the research that was conducted was either destroyed, or stolen. Nothing was left behind."

Arcee's breath hitched up. "The predacons that attacked the Selected mechs and femmes during the hunt, they were born and bred in your lab, were they not."

"They were," he stated. He looked at her. "My discoveries were never left unprotected. Whatever was stolen was but a small sliver of what I had found. I would never have been so careless as to leave sensitive documents behind. Before we were to launch the staged attack on the clones, I had erased my lab of sensitive information. However, one needs to only examine the CNA of the clones to gather enough information to make a discovery of their own."

Arcee swallowed, anticipation building up inside of her. "Could someone be transformed, or...changed into a predacon?"

"Tampering with creation is possible," he said. "But it is illogical to expect great results. Altering the biological chemistry of a Cybertronian could be done with the right information."

Arcee was silent for a moment, optics clouded over. Her servos clenched as she put together the pieces she had just received. So, it was possible that someone had tampered with Bumblebee, and maybe others, and turned them into predacons. The thought left her seething with anger, and she could not wait to sink her blades into whoever was responsible.

Her comm link came to life, nearly startling her. With a sigh, she answered the call. "Yes?"

 _"Find anything useful?"_ Ark asked.

"Very," Arcee answered, her optics flickering over to Shockwave who was regarding her. "I assume you have something of interest you would like to discuss."

 _"I do in fact,"_ Ark agreed. _"KnockOut and I continued our bit of research with the new information you have given us from your friend, and I do believe it has some interest to you."_

Arcee's frown deepened. She was torn. On the one hand, she really needed to stay and continue her questioning with Shockwave, but she was also curious about what Ark and the others discovered. She shifted in her seat, but then remembered the other reason why she had come. Glancing at the datapad, an idea came to her. "I will meet you in five," she said. Ending the comm link, she looked back up. "Shockwave," she said suddenly. "By no means are we finished with our talk, but I have something I would like you to do." Taking the datapad back, she displayed a picture to him. "Lord Megatron provided me with this, and I would like for you to create a copy for me. An exact replica."

"What makes you think I am a welder?" he asked, though he did examine the image she had displayed.

"I have seen some of your...carefully crafted work," she said. "I have no doubt that you can manage this." She set the datapad down and slid out of her chair. "Thank you for your time, but I will be back to continue this discussion."

"Arcee," he said suddenly, and she froze at the sound of her name coming from him. She slowly turned to regard him and noticed how he seemed to be studying her with such intensity. "I would advise you to leave this matter alone. You do not know what you may find."

Images of Bumblebee smiling, laughing, dancing with her flashed through her mind. She remembered him and how he made her experience feelings she had never felt before. She wanted a life with him, and that had seemed impossible. Then she had found out that he was the Heir, her intended mate, on the day he was pronounced dead, and the hope within her shattered. Now, she had found out that he was alive, and that hope was reborn. A life with him was possible, it could happen. She just needed to ensure his survival.

She was not going to let a scientist tell her what to do and ruin that hope.

Yet all those retorts and arguments faded from her mouth when she caught sight of the delicate object nearly hidden on Shockwave's workstation. She had seen if before and could remember the conversation Bumblebee had with her so long ago about a friend of his receiving such small gifts as a sign of affection. It had seemed like a sweet gesture, one that held so much meaning. A fragile, small thing that might have gone unnoticed. Yet it was a bright piece of art that was so tenderly loved and created. It glittered and glowed in the dark, much like the ones in the gardens Bumblebee had taken her to.

"What if it were Red Alert who was amongst the dead?" she asked instead, looking at him. No emotion betrayed his features, and she did not need to see his thoughts to know how much such a question affected him. With barely another word, Arcee turned and left the room.


	34. Chapter 33

Bumblebee had not realized how fast Firestar was until he was chasing after her. His wings flapped madly as he raced down the halls, yet his mad dash caused him to crash into Smokescreen. Both mechs could barely regain their balance as they flapped their wings quickly. By the time they had gathered their bearings, Firestar was out of sight.

" _Foolish femme,"_ Bumblebee growled.

"Yeah," Smokescreen huffed. " _She's going to get herself killed! There's no way she's the Heir."_

" _Well, one of us is bond to be,"_ Bumblebee said. With barely a glance back at Smokescreen, Bumblebee flew on ahead.

Yes, he was inwardly cursing Firestar for her recklessness. He did not know her personally, but he had never figured her for the bold, brash type. But maybe the torture and transformation finally got to her. After all, he did not know what happened to Firestar when he and Smokescreen had been sent out with Predaking. But he was surprised that Firestar would make such a careless declaration.

He flew faster, hoping that he could reach her in time to talk some sense into her.

However, the sounds of Firestar's voice echoing in the cavern proved him otherwise. His spark filled with dread as he burst into the clearing, his wings aching, as he took in the sight of Firestar hovering in the cave over the three predacons. In that moment, with the dim lighting illuminating her armor and wings, she looked fierce, almost elegant, and if had not known any better, he would have believed the lie that he knew was on the tip of her mouth.

" _I demand answers!"_ she said loudly, her glare directed at Predaking who stirred from his slumber.

Predaking's optics narrowed. " _You are in no position to demand anything from me."_

" _What reason do I have for trusting you?"_ she demanded, her tail curling as if getting ready to strike.

Predaking lowered his helm, disinterested. " _You have no choice."_

" _Not good enough!"_ she roared, landing with a loud 'thud' as the ground shook. " _If you wish to work with us, then you will start making sense of all of this. We do not need your loyalty, we just need your trust."_

Darksteel huffed. " _Loyalty and trust? Sounds the same to me."_

" _Trust: a firm belief in the truth. A firm belief that you will help us. Loyalty: showing constant support to an individual."_ Firestar growled. " _Both take equal time to build, but we only need trust at this point."_

Predaking's optics narrowed. " _Trust needs to work both ways, and I do not see why we need yours. After all,"_ his optics flickered to Bumblebee. " _I have all that I need to know."_

" _That is not what I, an alley, want to hear,"_ Firestar stated. " _How can we escape? How can your plans benefit us?"_

Predaking sighed. " _My plans will benefit you all in the long run so long as you do as I command of you. The well being of my species comes first."_

" _As the well being of my friends comes first for me,"_ Firestar retorted. " _So far, you have yet to plead a strong case. What is to stop me from working with you, or for any of us to refuse to work with you?"_ She scoffed. " _It seems we would be better on our own."_ Bumblebee could see that this conversation was going nowhere. Predaking refused to listen, to even acknowledge the fact that they could not stay in this Pit any longer.

" _Antagony would never leave you to your own devices,"_ Predaking stated. " _So long as she does not have the Heir, no one is going anywhere."_ His optics opened up once more. " _The power has shifted to me, where it should belong, and I like how everything has fallen into place."_

Firestar's growl decreased to a low rumble, and Bumblebee could practically see the smirk on her face. Straightening up, helm held high, her declaration carried throughout in the cavern. " _Predaking, self-proclaimed 'king' of the predacon race, I am Firestar of the House of Prime, Heir to the Autobots."_

Silence reigned in the cavern, yet Bumblebee choked in horror as he watched everything unfold. The only one who did not seem fazed was Firestar herself, who remained standing firm and proud.

" _What?"_ Predaking growled.

Firestar transformed, her blue optics sparking as she curled her servos into fists, challenging the predacon as a true leader would. "I am the Autobot Heir, and I will be heard!"

Several things happened at once. Skylynx and Darksteel launched forward with roars at Firestar, their claws out. Bumblebee launched forward, but Smokescreen reached Firestar and threw himself on top of Firestar, who seemed to be expecting his presence. Smokescreen roared with pain as the first attacks inflicted him, but he did not move.

" _She is the Heir?"_ Skylynx demanded.

" _How?"_ Darksteel roared.

"She is not the Heir!" Bumblebee screamed, transforming into his mech form. He stood before them all, trembling. "I am!"

The two predacons stared at him while Predaking looked torn between intervening with brute force, or sitting back and observe the events that were about to unfold.

A scoff caught Bumblebee's attention, and he turned to look at Smokescreen, who had transformed into his mech form. He regarded Bumblebee with cold humor. "You? The Heir?" He scoffed once more. "Your lie is so obvious."

Predaking's optics narrowed, and the sound of him transforming was the only sound in the room for a moment. "I suppose you will proclaim that you are the Heir?"

Smokescreen hissed. "Instead of beating the information out of me, you could have asked."

"Your loyalty is commendable," Firestar announced, stepping forward. "But there is no need for your protection. I will face this as Optimus Prime has taught me, and confront my enemies."

Bumblebee laughed, and it was a bought of nerves and hysterics that burst forth. No humor was in his tone. His armor shook as he laughed, his mind running. Immediately, looking at Firestar's knowing optics and the smirk she was so expertly containing, her scheme was understood by him.

"Firestar," he said finally. "A femme is not the Autobot Heir."

"Which is why the secret was so cleverly hidden," she answered. "Optimus and Megatron had this all planned from the start. It was all smokes and mirrors." Her optics flickered to Smokescreen who stood at her side, staring at her with a blank expression. She brushed past him, standing in front of Preaking. "Take me to Antagony," she said. "I am ready to face her interrogation."

"Firestar, please," Bumblebee pleaded, rushing toward her with haste. "Do not take on my responsibilities. Do not suffer for my sake."

"It is a suffering that comes with my title," she answered softly.

"It is not yours!" he shouted desperately. "It is mine." He grabbed her shoulders, feeling his knees go weak as he collapsed at her pedes. "Please, I cannot let another die for my sake."

"You are my subject, Bee," she said grimly. "Cease this charade. It was never my intent for you to act as my decoy."

Bumblebee's servos trembled as he clung to her. "Please," he choked out. "Tell them the truth! You are not the Heir!"

"It is the truth," she said, wrenching free from his grasp. "Optimus Prime found and raised-"

"Shut up!" Bumblebee screamed, scrambling to his pedes. He lunged at her, but Smokescreen held him back. "I am the Heir, and I will not let you take my place in all this slaughter!"

"You are making this harder for all of us!" she shouted back.

"Which one of you is the Heir?" Skylynx roared, staring at them in confusion.

"For all I know, it could be him," Darksteel growled, pointing at Smokescreen.

Smokescreen released Bumblebee to hold his servos up in surrender. "Hey, you got me. Optimus Prime found me in a nest of sleeping scraplets and bravely took me in and raised me in the Halls of Iacon. I am pledged to mate with the Decepticon Heir who is clearly a femme," here, he shot Firestar a look. "And now I am listening to my only two comrades spout lies in a vain effort to keep my identity a secret."

Darksteel blnked before growling. "Just take them all to Antagony," he growled, grabbing Smokescreen and dragging him away.

"No!" Bumblebee screamed. "Leave him out of this!"

"Enough Bumblebee," Smokescreen shouted as he was led away. But after a few minutes, his optics widened and he let out a wail. "I changed my mind!" he shrieked as he grabbed at the ground in an effort to stop moving. "I don't wanna see Antagony!"

"I am the Heir, take me!" Firestar shouted as Skylynx grabbed her.

"No! Me!" Bumblebee shouted as he threw himself at Skylynx's pedes, who blinked in obvious discomfort.

"Don't hurt us!" Smokescreen shouted. "Antagony wants us fresh for the torture! Especially me since I am the Heir!"

"I am the Heir you twit!" Bumblebee screamed.

"No, I am!" Firestar shouted.

Bumblebee's retort was cut off when Predaking roughly grabbed his shoulder and yanked him aside. "What game are you playing at?" he growled.

Bumblebee could not resist smirking. "A game of deceit and trickery."

"You think this will end well?" Predaking demanded. The shock was clear in his optics as he regarded Bumblebee warily.

"It will if you talk to us," Bumblebee answered. "We want out, not to play your own game of cloaks and mirrors. Our proposal still stands. What will it be your highness?"

Predaking stared at him for a moment, opening his mouth before closing it. His tight grip on Bumblebee loosened ever so slightly. A thoughtful look crossed his face, and Bumblebee dared to hope for the best.

"No need to bring them to me," a sudden voice said that brought an end to the chaotic noise. Everyone turned to the door with dread heavy in their sparks as Antagony entered the scene, her optics wide and bright with mad delight. "I shall come to you," she stated.

* * *

" _Because the prisoner I met with was Bumblebee."_

Those very words had shocked Moonracer to the core. Even now, her spark still pounded with what such a revelation could mean.

Bumblebee was alive. It was almost too good to be true. Amongst all the dead and all the chaos, he was still alive, and she might yet still see him. It was a gift, a blessing that she was fiercely going to guard.

And Arcee had said nothing else.

Moonracer had been riled up in that moment, demanding answers from Arcee. At that time, she had pleaded, begged to know more. She had desperately asked how Arcee had come across such information.

The blue femme had the decency to look ashamed when she had looked down and avoided Moonracer's hopeful optics.

" _I have said all that I can."_

The rest had faded into a senseless blur. Moonracer did not know who had struck first, but she was willing to bet that she herself had been the first one to lash out. All of her anger, frustration and grief burst forth as she had leaped at Arcee, servos out. Of course, Arcee was way more experienced than Moonracer had ever thought. But Arcee had been pulling her attacks, merely flipping Moonracer over and onto the ground, pinning her down. Her objective had not been to attack, but to simply defend. As Moonracer had struggled in the tight grip, Arcee had ordered for Ark to stand back. More like snarled, actually. Yet all that frustration was directed at Moonracer the moment Ark had backed off.

But Arcee had not been the only one who was frustrated. Moonracer was as well. No one was giving her answers, and everyone was being cryptic about the events. She had been forced to examine dead bodies for days in the hopes of finding something that would bring her friend justice. She had just been attacked by predacons, beasts that were supposed to be extinct. To top it all off, she had just found out that her friend, the mech she considered a brother, to be alive. And Arcee had the audacity to withhold any more information?

It had almost been like Arcee had sensed her thoughts, for her optics had narrowed.

" _You left him!"_ Moonracer had accused, her accusations choking off into a pained cry. If Arcee had seen Bumblebee, why was he not here with them? What circumstances was he in? Why could she not see him?

Yet Arcee's chilling comment had caused all the fight to freeze inside of Moonracer.

" _You are not the only one who loves him."_

Moonracer blinked as she was pulled back to the present. Instead of on the cold floor, pinned down by an enraged Decepticon, she was leaning against a wall with her arms folded. Despite receiving such news about Bumblebee, she felt empty. Why? She should have been celebrating that he was alive! Yet, she felt as if nothing had changed, as if Bumblebee was still dead.

Her servo reached up to briefly touch her spark chamber. She wished she could feel Mirage through the bond, she wished she could share his strength in this moment. Yet she also wanted to keep him from the chaos that was now her life. But even without the sparkbond, Mirage was still there for her, sensing her distress and sharing her pain the best he could.

The doors to the office slid open, and Moonracer looked up briefly to see Arcee enter. Her optics narrowed, yet she relaxed slightly when she saw how truly worn out Arcee appeared to be. She seemed to be running low on energy and fuels, yet she still held her helm high. Once again, Moonracer was reminded of Arcee's previous words.

" _You are not the only one who loves him."_

Moonracer had a faint hunch what that meant.

"What have you found?" Arcee asked as she approached Ark and Knock Out.

"Many things regarding the cortical psychic patch," KnockOut stated simply. "It is common knowledge that Shockwave was the one to invent the cortical psychic patch during the war."

Arcee nodded. "Right." The tone in her voice suggested that she was anticipating something interesting.

"Well, it is obvious that he had to have a team with him to build such a thing," KnockOut continued. "And while it is not hard to work the darn machine, it is rather tricky to move it unless someone knows what they are doing."

Arcee frowned. "And how are we going to use such information?"

Knock Out waved a datapad. "I compiled a list of the scientists who assisted Shockwave during the war on the cortical psychic patch. We may just find a connection. Maybe," he muttered under his breath.

Arcee scrolled through the datapad. She blinked. "Dirge is mentioned here. Was he an assistant of Shockwave's?"

Knock Out barely glanced at her as he sorted through the stack of reports. "Yes, he was often assigned to Shockwave's lab. Why the sudden interest?"

"Dirge is one of the leading terrorist leaders as of now who opposes the peace treaty," Arcee stated thoughtfully. "But he has gone missing for the past weeks. Ironically, the same time when the attack on the Selecteds occurred."

KnockOut just shrugged. "Follow the money trail." Here, he shot Ark a knowing look who had yet to look up from her own reading.

"Shockwave was cooperative?" Ark asked, not glancing at anyone as her optics remained fixed on whatever she was reading.

Arcee nodded. "I think he will cooperate with us. Megatron was...displeased that such knowledge has come to my attention. But Soundwave told him to deal with it."

Ark narrowed her optics, glancing up. "He did not."

"Something along those lines," Arcee said simply. "Megatron has been keeping Project Predacon hidden from the public eye, including me, for so long that it has unnerved him that such a revelation was found out."

"And what are Soundwave and Megatron doing with this change of events?" Ark asked. Moonracer watched the exchange with growing interest, content with just sitting back and observing.

Arcee shrugged. "I do not know."

KnockOut huffed from his side of the room. "Hey, Ark, do we need this list we had compiled?"

Arcee looked up. "What list?"

"The list of those connected to the hunt during the attack," KnockOut explained. "We thought it might lead us somewhere."

Moonracer straightened up. "The hunt?" she demanded suddenly. "You mean the one that Sentinel organized?"

Arcee looked up sharply. "What?"

Moonracer nodded. "It was all Mirage ever talked about. He's a hunter, and he was pretty surprised that Sentinel himself would get involved in planning a hunt. But I do suppose that if the Selecteds were involved, that anyone would be aware of the event."

"Sentinel was the one to organize the hunt?" Knock Out questioned. He hummed thoughtfully as he glanced at the list. "Well, it appears he did make the cut for our list." He looked at Ark. "Monet trail?"

"Everyone has one," Ark answered simply. She frowned. "Though, numerous records are missing from his account." She glanced up. "It does not mean much."

"But the fact that is steadily decreasing and increasing, mirroring attacks of certain terrorist groups who are always supplied with new weapons and gear has got to mean something, right?" Knock Out persisted.

Ark hesitated. "Right."

Arcee had gone still, her servos gripping the sides of the table. She released a breath, optics sparking. "Sentinel?" Arcee demanded, looking at them all.

Moonracer's confusion grew, until she took in the meaning of the name. The warning that Bumblebee had given Arcee. Even with the faint clue, it had led them somewhere.

"S.E.N.T.I," Ark stated, optics wide.

Everyone stared at each other, no one moving. Arcee looked dumbfounded, and Moonracer was sure her own expression mirrored the blue femme's. Ark looked strangely excited, like a peice of the puzzle falling into place while KnockOut just stared at the datapad in his servos.

"Well, scrap," he said suddenly.


	35. Chapter 34

**Author's Note: In response to Airreon Princess, yes, I am updating much sooner then you think! ;) And can you believe that this story is almost a year old? *Gasp* That was brought to my attention by asalmafsal996. Also, thank you to Sentinel Warpath, Klenda, RoboDiamondDragon09, and everyone else who has been reading and reviewing! You're all so amazing and God Bless!**

* * *

Bumblebee kept his helm lowered, staring at the dark floor with an air of weakness around him. Yet, his spark was still racing with the past two hours of the day. He moved his servos, trying to get the energon flowing through them, but it was a useless effort against the tight chanis that kept him pinned to the wall.

He glanced over at Smokescreen who was chained to his left. The white mech, like Bumblebee, had his helm down, though his optics were bright and alert.

"Nest of scraplets?" Bumblebee hissed, his mouth forming into an amused grin.

Smokescreen grinned back. "Well, an abandoned scraplet nest." He paused. "At least, that is what Prowl suspected it to be when he found me."

Bumblebee nodded. "Ah." He had never heard such a tail from his friend, and he had not known how Smokescreen came to be found by Prowl. But a bit of a truth into the lie made it harder to disprove.

"What are we doing here?" Smokescreen asked, lifting his helm up to survey the area they were brought in.

"They will question us," Firestar answered. "Again." She sighed and leaned her helm back against the wall she was chained to, closing her optics. But she reopened them once more to glance at them. "That was some stunt you all pulled."

Bumblebee shrugged. "Hey, it created chaos and confusion, and I was not letting you hog up all of Antagony's time. Better that they are left guessing who the Heir is."

"What was the point of you proclaiming that you were the Heir?" Smokescreen demanded, staring at Firestar. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Predaking sees himself as a king, a leader of sorts over the predacons," she answered. "He does not want to help us escape."

"He wants to keep us under his wing so that he can gather the numbers," Bumblebee answered, sitting back with a grim expression. "I suspected as much."

Firestar nodded. "He would never have let us go. While his treatment towards us would have been less severe, I for one do not want to stay as a predacon under his rule."

"So how is us landing in a stinky cell any better?" Smokescreen demanded.

"We could talk," Bumblebee stated. "Everything Predaking told me, told us, could be at Antagony's fingers. Predaking could be compromised, and he knows it."

Smokescreen shifted around. "Still don't see how that is going to help our current situation," he grumbled. "Any moment, we are going to be questioned, possibly be put through a cortical psychic patch."

"The last part seems unlikely," Bumblebee stated. He just hoped Arcee had understood his message. If not, then the truth about the Heir would come out much sooner than he would have liked.

The sideways glance Smokescreen sent him showed that the white mech was hoping for the same thing.

"Should we try to bust our way out of this?" Firestar asked.

"Such an action would only force some of us to stay behind," Bumblebee stated. He looked up at her with narrowed optics. "And that is not going to happen. No one is getting left behind."

Firestar just stared at him, not breaking her stare from him. Everyone looked up sharply at the sound of a metal door opening. Light flooded in, nearly blinding them all. Bumblebee blinked as his optics, which had grown accustomed to the dark, as he noticed a figure enter the room.

Antagony smiled at them, her staff clutched loosely and in a casual manner in her servo. "Such a lovely conversation you all were having," she said. "Now, you caused quite a disturbance amongst my pets, and there is a rumor going around that you," she pointed at Firestar. "Are the Heir."

Firestar stiffened up, a move that was copied by both Smokescreen and Bumblebee.

"Or it could be you," she said, pointing at Smokescreen who scowled at her. "Or you!" she said, pointing at Bumblebee.

"Bingo," Bumblebee said with a raised optic ridge.

"Oh!" she said, pulling back with a laugh. "You like to talk back, don't you?"

"Well, I am not exactly courteous towards those who kidnap, torture and turn me into a predacon," he answered. "I just might complain about the terrible service to the manager who runs this establishment."

Antagony smirked as she stalked towards him. Her thin, sharp finger traced his neck, the exact spot where that listening, torture device was. He recoiled back from her touch, but the wall that held him captive prevented him from going any further.

"I like you," she said suddenly. "In fact, I like you all." She looked around the room with a pout. "But, Sentinel want's me to give one of you up. I don't get to chose, which is not fair. Sentinel wants the Heir to the Autobots for his own purposes."

"Killing the Autobot Heir will hardly stop the treaty," Smokescreen stated.

Antagony laughed. "You think this is all about the treaty? My poor thing, we hardly care about that." Her optics grew hard. "The war created heroes, and monsters. Some hide in the dark while others bask in the light. Weapons and relics that are known to a select few are hidden from sight, and it is those that we covet."

"The Key," Bumblebee said suddenly in understanding, looking up in shock. "Sentinel wants to be a Prime."

Antagony giggled, and it was then that Bumblebee wished he had not spoken. "Darling, he was a Prime. But he is not the Prime Cybertron looks to anymore. The Matrix resides with another."

"But with the Key, he could possess all that the Matrix holds," Firestar said. Her servos curled into fists. "Primus made his choice, and it is not Sentinel's place to decide who holds the Matrix."

"And who cares if another war erupts during his mae dash to achieve the Key?" Smokescreen growled, hatred in his optics. "He could rise again as Cybertron's savior with the knowledge of the Primes, with all of Cybertron's hope dead and at his pedes."

"Precisely," Antagony thrilled. "You are a smart bunch!"

"Which is more than I can say for you," Bumblebee muttered. His words clogged up inside of him as the device on his voice box sent electric waves running through him. He struggled against the bonds that held him captive as pain, an old companion now, surged through him. The sounds of his screams mixed with Smokescreen's and Firestar's desperate calls to him, yet it did nothing to ease his pain.

When the pain mercifully came to an end, he slumped against the wall, the chains keeping him up as he panted. His entire body shook, and he felt an ache build up from his voice box to his entire chassis.

"Talking back will only get you so far," Antagony said coldly. There was no hint of mad laughter in her voice, yet the madness in her optics was still there. "But since you like to talk so much, why don't you tell me who the Heir is?"

"Me," Firestar said.

"Me," Smokescreen declared.

"Me," Bumblebee echoed, looking up at her with narrowed optics.

Antagony pulled back with a scowl. "Very well then," she said, twirling her staff that thrummed to life with electricity. "It looks like we will be here for a while."

* * *

"Your deviousness truly disturbs me," Prowl stated with a frown, though he could not deny that his spark pulsed with relief from the news he had just received.

"Thank you," Megatron said simply.

"And how long were you planning on keeping this from us?" Jazz demanded. "Or were you planning on presenting it to us as a wedding present when the Heirs bonded?"

"I was planning on telling you when it mattered," Megatron answered simply.

"In other words, never," Jazz grumbled. He looked like he wished to say more, but Optimus's voice cut him off.

"Megatron, I assume you have a fail safe for this?" Optimus stated. "If we wish to get to the bottom of this and to maintain this fragile peace, then it is best that you come forward with all your secrets."

"What other beasts are you hiding?" Jazz growled.

"Project Predacon was terminated long before I met with Optimus about a possible peace," Megatron said, turning his red glare on Jazz. "However, that does not mean that others have tried to continue Shockwave's previous works."

"Where is that one optic freak now?" Jazz demanded. Prowl closed his optics to try and ward off the helm ache. He resisted sighing at Jazz's brash behavior towards the Decepticons. He knew it had been a poor choice to include Jazz in on this, but the sudden news Megatron had for all of them had shocked everyone to the core.

"Is there a chance that Shockwave placed a weakness into the predacons?" Prowl asked, opening his optics.

Megatron scoffed. "This was during the war. Shockwave dd not sabotage his own work when the cause of the Decepticons relied on him."

"What of the cortical psychic patch?" Optimus asked. "This...information that you had obtained, have you dealt with the warnings?"

"The cortical psychic patch has been dismantled, and is under heavy guard," Megatron stated. "But it has come to my attention that one of my Decepticons had questioned you about a certain relic."

Optimus stared at him. "You were informed correctly." He said no more, and even Prowl could tell that the Prime was not going to say anything more on the matter. The Key to Vector Sigma was a heavily guarded secret. Prowl had voiced his misgivings when Optimus had given it to Bumblebee, but the young mech had proven himself just as trustworthy, and Prowl's misgivings had slowly vanished over the years.

Now, the Key was in danger of being stolen and used against them. Prowl was both alarmed and relieved when Optimus had declared to his inner circle of handing it over to Ratchet to guard.

"And these beasts that attacked your Heir and her fellow companions?" Jazz stated with a frown. "You could not locate them despite the fact that Soundwave was there?"

Prowl's optics flickered over to Soundwave, who was casually leaning up against the wall. It did not go unnoticed by Prowl how Megatron glanced at Soundwave, a smirk tugging at his mouth. Prowl narrowed his optics at the silent exchange, and it was then he noticed Soundwave's empty chassis.

The exact spot his minicon usually resided.

His optics widened, and he found himself speaking before he could stop himself.

"Where is Laserbeak?" he demanded.

Megatron's grin grew into a smirk. "Locating the beasts, even as we speak." He leaned back. "There is always a fail safe for everything I do. The horror of pain and fire could not stop Soundwave from performing his duties in the moment of battle."

* * *

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Ark stated quickly.

"Lets," KnockOut said with a smirk. "I never liked that traitorous mech in the first place."

"Watch your tone," Moonracer snapped, glaring at him. "You may not like him, but he is still a-"

"A what?" KnockOut countered. "An Autobot?" He scoffed, glancing at Ark. "Darling, don't you remember our little talk about the double agents? Both sides would not divulge such information to each other to protect the double crossers."

"No," Moonracer breathed, though there was uncertainty in her optics. "KnockOut, that is a serious charge you are talking about. To accuse Sentinel of not only being a traitor during the war, but to be involved in the attacks is-"

"Too high?" KnockOut asked. He shrugged. "Megatron could tell you more than I ever could. After all, it's not like I was there during the war." He stopped talking and placed a hand on his hips. "Oh, wait, I was."

Arcee glanced at Ark uneasily. "Ark, you are surprisingly quiet."

"For good reason," Ark said as her servos frantically typed away.

"Does the money trail match?" KnockOut asked sweetly, leaning in to look over the femme's shoulder.

"Shut up," Ark growled.

Arcee's spark hammered in her chassis. To think that such corruption reached so high up was alarming. The fact that Sentinel had betrayed the Autobots and worked with Megatron was disturbing enough, as it meant he had no qualms for alliances, she also had to face that fact that he might be involved in with the predacons. If Sentinel was indeed involved, who else was?"

"This is too grave to push aside," Ark said, staring at Arcee. "Too many pieces fit into place now that Sentinel is in the picture."

Arcee was about to speak up when the door to the lab opened, and Shockwave entered. He headed straight for Arcee, an object clutched in his servo. He stood before her and passed the object to her with tender care. "Do what you must," he said. With that, he turned and left just as suddenly as he had entered.

Arcee watched him leave before glancing back down at the object in her servo. Shockwave's quick work was so authentic that she herself felt like the Key she held was real. She was right in assuming that Shockwave could create such a convincing replica of the Key to Vector Sigma. Despite what Shockwave said, he would make a great welder.

She smiled and clutched the fake key. "We will present our case to Megatron himself."

* * *

Antagony's presence soon became more like an annoying buzz to Bumblebee. Her questions remained the same, as did their answers about the Heir and the Key.

"You are making this very difficult," she said.

"Well, we are not known for being easy students," Smokescreen said with a snippy reply. "My guardian, Optimus Prime, was driven up the walls with my-" He was cut off with a pained cry as Antagony stabbed him with her electric staff.

"Antagony," a new voice declared, causing the femme to halt her torture on Smokescreen. "That is enough."

"Look guys," Bumblebee muttered. "It's a traitor get-together."

Sentinel scowled as he walked in, arms folded behind his back. "A get-together of difficult sparklings as well."

Bumblebee looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging. "Eh, I think my comment was better than yours."

"One would think you'd have learned to keep your mouth shut in such circumstances," Sentinel growled.

"One would think you'd have learned that we aren't going to give you what you want," Bumblebee snipped back.

Sentinel stalked toward him, expression thunderous. "Maybe that will change soon enough. Where is the Key?"

"I don't talk to traitors," Bumblebee said stubbornly, turning away with a pout. He could feel the annoyance radiating off from Sentinel, and he smirked at the thought of annoying Sentinel.

Sentinel's optics narrowed, and he turned to look at Firestar. "You claim you are the Heir?" he demanded.

Firestar blinked in surprise, though she nodded her helm. "Yes, I am."

"Good," Sentinel stated, and he powered up his gun and leveled it at Bumblebee's spark. Firestar lurched forward, as if she could wrench free from the chains that bound her. Bumblebee breathed in sharply as he felt the heat of the gun touch him.

"Where is the Key?" Sentinel demanded.

"I don't know," Firestar gritted out. "Optimus Prime would not tell me."

"The Key to Vector Sigma was passed down from Optimus Prime to his Heir," Sentinel stated. "Either you are not the Heir, or you are lying about your lack of knowledge." He shrugged. "If you refuse to cooperate, then fine. I can always move on to the white mech after I am finished with this one." With a sharp move, he smacked Bumblebee across the face. Energon from the cut on his face flowed downward as Bumblebee lowered hsi helm from the unexpected blow.

Firestar's tone grew desperate. "I do not know where the Key is! I swear to Primus that I do not."

"He won't do it, Firestar," Bumblebee said, glaring at Sentinel. "I wouldn't dare risk killing the Heir by accident. For all he knows, I could be the Heir, not you."

Sentinel sighed, his gun transforming back into a servo. "How right you are." He looked down, as if reluctantly admitting his defeat. It was in that moment that Bumblebee felt that he could breath in relief.

"However," Sentinel said suddenly, looking up as he reached out his servo to touch Bumblebee's neck. "I have grown tired of your pointless prattle." Bumblebee's optics widened as Sentinel lunged forward, sharp servos digging through his armor.

Firestar was screaming threats as Smokescreen pleaded for mercy as they watched in horror as Sentinel ripped away Bumblebee's protective armor. Bumblebee's choked screams were silenced as he felt a cold, clawed servo dig deep with as energon spurted out of the new, open wound. Finally, Sentinel pulled back, servos wet with energon. Bumblebee's panicked gasps became choked as he struggled to spit out the energon gathering in his mouth.

"His voice box has been punctured," Sentinel sad simply as he wiped away at the mess in his servos. "Without medical help in the next two hours, he will never speak again. Four hours, he will bleed to death." He turned to stare at Firestar and Smokescreen individually. "I shall leave you two to decide amongst yourselves how you wish to help your friend. Maybe you will be a bit more willing to cooperate with me and give me what I want."


	36. Chapter 35

"Do you smell energon?" Skylynx asked, looking up and tilting his helm.

Predaking did not even bother to respond as his tail twitched at Skylynx's comment. Being a predacon meant that they had an acute sense for tracking, and for all the time he had spent beating the scrap out of Bumblebee and spilling his energon, he had grown accustomed to the young yellow mechs scent.

So yes, he could smell energon, and he could identify it as Bumblebee's. The mech's energon had been spilled, and in large amounts by how strong the scent was. It was either that, or Bumblebee was being held in a cell much closer than usual.

"Primus, Antagony is not holding back," Darksteel muttered. "With the way she's spilling his energon, he might have been the Heir after all."

"If he was the Heir, then she wouldn't have killed him, you idiot," Skylynx growled.

"I didn't say she killed him! And don't call me an idiot!" Darksteel roared, transforming and lunging at Skylynx who was in the process of transforming as well.

Predaking stood up, wings unfurling as he launched into the sky and aiming for the opening in the cave ceiling. Once upon a time, he would have performed the same routine in a desperate attempt to escape. All his attempts were foiled. Now, he was free to roam around so long as he had that little device on his chassis that tied him to the witch. He knew the rules if he were to go out on patrol: stay hidden, or eliminate the witnesses.

But he had no intention of being seen. He just needed to get away from Darksteel's and Skylynx's foolish arguments, and the growing scent of Bumblebee's energon.

He embraced the wind as he flew, feeling the powerful beat of his wings as they carried him upward. Up in the air, he was weightless and in control in the midst of careless danger. When flying, he had something to focus on.

Yet alone in the air, his thoughts were loud with memories and disturbing reminders. The actions of the Fiery Femme made no sense to him whatsoever. She had boldly declared that she was the Autobot Heir, and then everything had gone to the Pit. He was certain Bumblebee was the Autobot Heir. The mech's reaction during that day near the predacon graveyard had confirmed his suspicions. So why cause such a fuss over a lie? They had only served to catch Antagony's attention.

Regardless, he still needed them. He needed the numbers. He was not going to spend the rest of his life under the command of a crazy witch who tampered in things she should not. Yet for all her supposed power, she could still not create a predacon from the bones of their ancestors. Yes, she was capable of turning Cybertronians into predacons, but she was unable to create clones.

He could faintly remember the lab he was brought up in. He could recall the scientists who came and went. But the one he recognized the most was the one optic mech, and Dirge.

Dirge was an easy face for him to remember, and Predaking had no doubt that it was in that very laboratory with the one optic mech that Dirge got the idea of creating an indestructible, predacon army.

Predaking refused to be used for such a meager manner. Yet he bought his time, played the submissive role, and gathered his intel. He knew the layout of the base and had memorized every weakness. He knew where the fragile, explosive mines were, and where the weakest point of the mountain was.

He knew everything. He just needed the numbers.

He frowned inwardly, cursing the Fiery Femme for her blunt actions and for complicating matters. He needed them, but he had to suppose that the past hour was his fault. He refused to cooperate with them, thinking he could maintain the upper hand on them. But the three predacons were not like Skylynx and Darksteel, who had been born and bread in the lab as he had. Skylynx and Darksteel were somewhat free to roam around, provided that they followed certain rules and expectations. But Bumblebee and the others, they were taken from somewhere, and they were all trying to get back home as quickly as possible.

He released a puff of air. He might have to rethink his approach towards the new recruits if he ever hoped to gain their trust, a trust he did not want but needed. But a small part of him wondered what Antagony was doing to them, and he hoped that she would not permanently offline them.

His sharp hearing picked up something instantly, and he would have dismissed the whistling sound for the wind had it not been at a higher pitch then normal. He tensed up, his first immediate thought being that of an attack. But he retained his normal speed, alert and sensitive to the shadows around him and the noise he was now aware of.

He cocked his helm to the side and caught the brief glance of a small being vanishing into the ash cloud, yet Predaking could tell that the small being was still following him.

It was a small Cybertronian. Not a seeker, but rather, a minicon. He had never personally seen one before until his recent run in with that faceless mech who had fought with such ferocity. With that faceless mech had been a small winged minicon.

It was that very same minicon who was tailing him.

His first instinct was to blow it out of the sky. Such an act would be so easy, and it was what he was ordered to do. But here he was, alone in the sky with no one to see him pause and rethink his attack.

Very slowly, he turned around and headed back to the mountain that was the base. A quick, subtle glance back showed that the minicon was still following him. If he could, he would have smirked, yet the triumphant feeling warmed him up. He hoped this minicon was connected to the Decepticons, which in all likelihood, it was. Hopefully, the Decepticons, or possibly the Autobots, would trace the location of their base and act on the new information.

Well, he needed the numbers against the witch and her posse, but they did not necessarily need to be predacons.

* * *

Bumblebee tried not to panic. Yet for all his trying, he was failing quite miserably. He had tuned out Firestar's promises of treating Sentinel to a slow, painful death, and Smokescreen's words of comfort had lost their meaning an hour ago. In that moment, Bumblebee could only focus on the gaping hole in his chassis.

His optics remained closed, yet he could feel the trickle of energon leaking out of his wound. It hurt to breath, it hurt to move. It hurt to do anything.

He whimpered as he moved slightly, the dull pain exploding once more as he shifted his helm. If it did not hurt so much to speak, he would have foolishly declared that he was the Heir instead.

But the thing was, he found with growing fear that he could not speak. He could not make any sounds other then moaning and groaning.

He heard Firestar screaming. What was she screaming for? Now that he was focusing on her voice, he realized that she was calling for Sentinel. He frowned, trying to understand why she would call for him.

He blinked, trying and failing, to regain his focus. Sentinel. Right. The very same mech who had torn through his armor and damaged his voice. Sentinel would get him patched up if they told him where the Key to Vector Sigma was.

Except, Firestar and Smokescreen did not know where the Key was. He did. And he was in no state to tell them that. It hurt to much to even sigh.

The sound of a door opening caught his attention, and he looked up faintly to see Sentinel walk in.

He strode into the middle of the room, folding his servos behind his back with a calm air about him. "Yes?" he asked simply.

"He needs medical attention," Firestar pleaded, her gaze focused solely on the one mech who could aide them if he wanted to. "Now."

"And I need the Key to Vector Sigma," he stated simply. He narrowed his optics. "Now."

Firestar stared at him desperately. "I...I don't know where it is."

Sentinel did not look convinced as he stared at her. With a final sigh, he approached Smokescreen who stiffened up at his presence. Sentinel reached out to Smokescreen once he was close enough to touch his neck, but he paused. "No," Sentinel said finally after a moment. "A voice box is too redundant." He stared at Smokescreen for a bit. "Maybe a servo. Or," here, he tapped Smokescreen's helm. "An optic."

"I swear to Primus I don't know!" Firestar screamed, struggling against her chains.

"I believe you," he said sincerely.

"Hot Rod has it!" Smokescreen exclaimed, jerking his helm away from Sentinel's eager servos.

Sentinel paused. "What?" he demanded.

"Hot Rod is the Heir, and he must have the Key," Smokescreen said finally, releasing a breath.

Sentinel's optics narrowed. "And how would you know that?"

Smokescreen scoffed bitterly. "Mech can't hold his high grade when a femme turns him down. I just happened to be the unfortunate mech who listened to him spill the beans."

Bumblebee resisted frowning at the statement. A statement that made no sense to him whatsoever.

Sentinel stood up, eyeing Smokescreen thoughtfully. "I will check your leads," he said simply before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Hey!" Smokescreen hollored in desperation. "You promised to give Bumblebee medical attention!"

"He will receive it when I have the facts straightened out about this 'Hot Rod' fellow," Sentinel replied coldly. "And if the information is not what I seek, he will lose more than a voice box." With that, the door slammed shut with a condemning 'thud.'

Bumblebee raised his helm to stare at Smokescreen. "Hot...Rod?" he rasped, spitting out a mouth-full of energon as his voice box screamed in pain.

"Why Hot Rod?" Firestar demanded, glaring at Smokescreen. "He is not even part of the Selection!"

"But he does seem like a likely Autobot Heir," Smokescreen defended. "Even the media likes the guy. They say he's like 'the new Optimus' who will 'steal the Prime title'." He scoffed. "As if."

"You do realize that you just put an innocent mech in danger?" she growled.

Smokescreen rolled his optics. "Relax. Hot Rod's guardians are loaded. Do you even know who they are?" Smokescreen obviously took her silence as permission to go on. "Jetfire and a whole armada of seekers. I swear that kid has grown up with a plastic bubble wrapped around him. Despite not being in the Selection, Hot Rod'll be protected after the attack."

"That was still careless of you," Firestar muttered.

"Hey! I'm trying to buy us time!" Smokescreen shot back.

Bumblebee squeezed his opics shut as he felt another trickle of warm energon trail down his chassis. He tried not to think about the damage done to his body. He tried not to think about the sudden chill that filled his entire body as he slowly bled out. Instead, he focused on what resided in his mind. He tried to grab on to the pleasant memories of his youth, of his family, of Arcee.

His spark clenched, as did his fists. At this rate, he would never see her again. If Sentinel had his way, Bumblebee would be the first one to perish out of those who had survived the hunt on that fateful day.

"Bumblebee," he heard Smokescreen say. Bumblebee hoped the mech didn't want him to acknowledge him. He did not have the strength to do so.

"Bumblebee!" Smokescreen said, sharper than before.

Annoyance laced through Bumblebee, but he finally looked up at Smokescreen with pained fill optics. Smokescreen stuttered for a moment when he was once again faced with the gruesome sight his friend was. Nothing escaped his mouth, and Bumblebee was about to turn away when Smokescreen's increased nodding caught his attention.

At first, he was confused as to what his friend could possibly ge gesturing to. But when he blinked his blurry optics, he saw exactly what, aside from dirt and metal platings, was laying on the ground.

There, in a pool of his energon, was the device Antagony had slapped onto his throat. He blinked once more as he stared at the object. It must have fallen off when Sentinel had torn out his throat, and that was the only logical conclusion Bumblebee could come to. But without the device, he know realized that he was free from Antagony's hold.

But for some reason, he could not bring himself to care as the pain replaced what should have been joy.

* * *

"What was the point of creating such a trinket?" Moonracer demanded as she followed after Arcee.

Arcee glanced down at the fake Key to Vector Sigma in her servos. "I am not sure," she stated simply. "Leverage, I guess. If Bumblebee warned me to find the Key to Vector Sigma, then that must mean that the enemy wants it. It is as you said, only the Autobot Heir would have the Key. Maybe they are looking for it not only to gain knowledge, but to easily find the Heir."

Moonracer was silent as they walked. The green femme had stuck close to them all, and it was not out of loyalty now at the moment. Now, it was because of Bumblebee. Arcee's spark picked up speed at the thought of getting him back, of seeing him once more.

Yet her vision was tarnished with the very thought of him dead in front of her, never to see the light of day again.

So instead, she focused on the information she had gathered. She frowned thoughtfully. If Ark was right, and Sentinel was indeed involved, then that meant he was somehow connected to Dirge and was supplying him with weapons to support his attacks. Not only that, but someone was picking up from where Shockwave had left off on Project Predacon.

Her frown deepened. But Shockwave had stated that Project Predacon was incomplete. Whoever had the pieces had obviously broken the code and had somehow turned Bumblebee into a predacon. But who was to say just Bumblebee was affected? There might be others who were alive and turned into those beasts. Were the other predacons who had attacked her victims as well?

This was more than just the work of one political leader who was a turn coat during the war. It was a larger, underground system that was a threat to the people of Cybertron. Sentinel, who had betrayed the Autobots by spying for the Decepticons, was now possibly working with Dirge who was a well known terrorist who had figured out a way create more predacons for attacks.

But if it were true, then what was the whole reason? To destroy an alliance? To destroy peace? To gain the knowledge of the Primes? Or to destroy the knowledge of the Primes?

What did anyone have to really justify killing hundreds of innocents just for the sake of revenge, or power, or riches? There was no justification. There was no reason. It was just madness, and one could not reason with madness.

"How was he...when you found him?" Moonracer asked suddenly, pulling Arcee from her thoughts. Arcee did not need to ask her to clarify who she was talking about.

"He was...different," Arcee said simply, struggling for the words. "But...still the Bumblebee we know."

"Why could he not come back?" Moonracer demanded, voice shaking ever so slightly.

Arcee swallowed, uncertain how to answer. "Because they took him away from me once more," she said, her voice heavy with regret. "But when I next see those beasts, I will sink my blades into their sparks."

"You best do that," Moonracer said bitterly. "Or else you do not have my blessing." At that comment, Arcee shot Moonracer a look. Though Arcee had not exactly been disecret about her feelings towards Bumblebee when Moonracer had lashed out at her, she was just surprised that the femme had figured it out so quickly.

She was both relieved, and a bit wary.

Arcee stopped and turned to Moonracer, coming to a rash decision. "You keep this," she said, pushing the fake Key into Moonracer's servos. "For safekeeping."

She barely caught Moonracer's wordless expression as she turned around sharply as the wide doors were open for her. Whatever she had been about so say, everything she had gathered before her, was stripped away from her as she took in the room before her.

"What is going on?" she asked as she strode in, optics catching sight of Prowl and Soundwave hunched over the computer console while Optimus and Megatron were conversing in low, hushed tones. She stopped when she saw the large screen displaying various maps before them all. The location was the same, as was the live visual feed of a large beasts vanishing in the mountains. Whoever was recording the video stayed a safe distance away, yet was still close enough to give everyone a clear view of the land.

Arcee's optics swept across the room, and it was then she noticed everyone was armed. Her gaze focused on Megatron who was grinning. "A preparation for an attack on a rebel cell," he answered.

Her spark leaped. "Another one?"

"With them stinken beasts," a small, silver bot said with a grin.

"Control your mouth, Jazz," a tall, dark Autobot warned.

"Don't tell me what to do ninja bot!" the silver Autobot, Jazz growled.

"You found the predacons?" Arcee demanded in shock.

"Laserbeak did," Megatron said simply, nodding his helm to Soundwave. She focused her gaze on him, trying to remember when and how Laserbeak could have possibly found the predacons.

Her optics widened when she remembered when Soundwave had rescued her, and how Laserbeak never followed them through the ground bridge. Her spark grew warm at the thought that this nightmare might finally be over.

Yet somehow, she could tell that it was just beginning.


	37. Chapter 36

With the sudden news that everyone had been presented with, the plan for action was explained. After listening carefully to Optimus Prime explain what they were to do, Arcee had waited before stepping forward with her own shocking information.

She had already briefed Soundwave and Megatron about Bumblebee, and she was certain Megatron would have told Optimus. At least, he should have. If not, that was something she refused to deal with. Maybe that would teach Megatron about hoarding secrets.

But now, she was telling them everything.

Everything about the predacons, her suspicions, and what she had found out about Sentinel. Ark had then stepped forward with her own findings she had uncovered with Knock Out. Everyone listened carefully, and no one, aside from Jazz voiced his disbelief. This earned him several annoyed comments from Prowl.

The evidence, along with the information that was suddenly brought up changed nothing. Yet everything was altered.

Arcee had wondered if they were going to delay the attack, but surprisingly, both Optimus Prime and Megatron agreed that it would be best to strike as soon as possible. Teams were created, Decepticons and Autobots were informed for the mission, and a plan was laid out.

"We will send in scouts to survey the area first," Optimus stated. "We will then have a clearer picture of what we are up against. Our mission is to observe first, and then coordinate an attack when details are further gathered."

"We will then storm the base once we have secured the location," Megatron said. "No one gets in, or out, We will make sure of that. If possible," his optics flickered to Arcee. "We will see if we can rescue any survivors."

To Arcee's surprise, Megatron had agreed to allow her to accompany the rag-a-tag group of Decepticons and Autobots in storming the base. Of course, she had to agree to his terms without any arguments on her part. She had agreed quickly and hastily without a second thought. It was only until she saw Megatron's satisfied look that she began to wonder what she had gotten herself into.

She was to stay with Barricade and Bonecrusher, two mechs whom Megatron trusted on the mission. So far, Arcee saw no problem with the arrangements she had landed herself into.

Until she had rounded the corner and saw Moonracer gearing up.

"No," Arcee said firmly.

Moonracer's optics narrowed. "You cannot tell me what to do."

"You are inexperienced," Arcee said. "You will be a liability and put yourself, and others at risk."

"And you won't?" Moonracer demanded, looking at Arcee with a frown, her optics glinting.

"I am not inexperienced," Arcee said. Everything was riding on them getting Bumblebee back in this one mission. If they failed, it might cost Bumblebee his life. She could not risk that. It was also partially the reason she did not want Moonracer going with them. Moonracer was a risk and might, unintentionally, cause them to fail. But she would not voice that to Moonracer. Already she could see that the femme had her mind set.

"You do not know what I am capable of," Moonracer said.

"Exactly," Arcee said. "Can you handle what is to come? We do not even know what to expect when we go in."

"I will spare us the argument and just outright tell you that I have been cleared by both Optimus Prime and Megatron to accompany you on this mission," Moonracer interrupted. She strode toward Arcee, holding up the fake Key to Vector Sigma that Arcee had Shockwave make. "You gave this to me," she said. "Why? Was it a sign of trust?"

Arcee stared at it, unblinking. She finally turned back to look at Moonracer. "For safekeeping," she said simply, turning away with a small frown. "We are needed in the meeting room immediately," Arcee said over her shoulder. "I suggest you follow me if you still wish to partake in this crucial mission."

"Arcee," Moonracer called out suddenly, causing her to stop. "We will get him back."

Arcee turned to look back at Moonracer. "No promises, because it is a fact. He is coming home to us, alive." She strode out of the room quickly, her steps quick.

Everything was a blur for Arcee as she studied the last minute plan while gathering her gear. She looked up faintly as Ark approached her, the darker femme battle ready.

"Are you with me?" Arcee asked.

Ark placed a servo to her chassis. "To the death, my Heir."

* * *

Skylynx grunted as he shifted positions in the rough ground. His sides were beginning to ache from crouching down for so long. Beside him, Darksteel was as still as the rock that concealed his presence in the dark, low hanging cave.

"This is crazy," Skylynx grumbled.

"This is necessary," Darksteel stated. Though the grumble in his voice indicated that he shared Skylynx's misgivings on the situation.

"Are we even sure it will work?" Skylynx hissed. Darksteel sent him a warning glare, optics flickering to Skylynx's neck were the device Antagony had slapped on them resided. In that moment, Skylynx was reminded to hold his tongue and chose his words carefully as every single word he spoke would be monitored.

Predaking had told them before that Antagony had not been the one to clone them. That in itself robbed her if her right to control them. She had not cloned them, therefore she had no sway over the predacons, the ones she called her 'pets', though she believed she did. Skylynx could not wait to rip out her throat, as well as that cursed device that was strapped to his neck. Freedom, which had been preached to him for so long but never experienced, would come to him soon enough.

The smell of spilled energon grew stronger, and Skylynx shifted once more. He was not sure how long Predaking wanted them to wait outside the cell doors, hidden from sight. Every bone in Skylynx's being trembled with the anticipation of taking action, of finally wrecking some damage on the very ones who had caused them pain, who had humiliated them.

He smirked. He always knew he was strong. He'd find out just how strong when he crashed through the prison doors. Sure, it might hurt, but it would hurt Antagony and Sentinel more.

* * *

"Yeash, this cave seems to go on forever," Barricade muttered.

Arcee said nothing, her optics surveying everything around her with caution. One servo brushed up against a rock, while her other servo was out and formed into a blaster. Beside her strode Ark, alert and ready. Though her servos were empty, everything about the femme was dangerous and poised. Arcee had more than faith in her abilities.

Moonracer had remained silent behind them, and so far, they had yet to come across any signs of hostilities or signs of predacons. Yet, Arcee refused to give up hope. They had only been patrolling for an hour. A lot could happen in the next few minutes.

"Hold up," Barricade said suddenly, holding up his servo and gesturing for everyone to stop. Arcee tensed up, only to realize that it was the light up ahead that had caused Barricade to stop.

The sound of shifting metal drew her attention, and she saw Frenzy detach himself from Barricade. "Scout up ahead," Barricade ordered.

Frenzy scowled as he stared up at the taller mech. "Why?"

"There's an opening, and you are small enough to go unseen to scout out the area, and because you wanted to come, and you have to do as you are told!" Barricade said with narrowed optics, pointing up ahead of him like he was directing a stubborn child. "Now go!"

Fenzy grumbled, but he sprinted away with barely a sound. Arcee watched him go until she lost sight of him.

Three scouting teams had entered through the ground bridge Soundwave had provided, yet nothing of interest was reported as of yet. But still, Arcee was holding on to that hope, the hope that she would see Bumblebee.

The sound of someone sighing caught Arcee's attention, and she glanced over to realize that it was Ark. She became alert immediately when she realized that Ark was in fact, muttering, her optics closed and her servos clenched.

"Ark?" Arcee whispered, reaching out to gently touch Ark's shoulder. "What is it?"

Ark's optics slowly opened, and her purple optics gazed at Arcee. "Something is not right," she said.

Arcee frowned. "What's not right?" Of course nothing was right! They were in an unknown territory where predacons and crazy scientists and enemy soldiers possibly roamed. But she kept that information to herself. "What is it?" Arcee repeated.

"An agent of Unicron resides here," Ark said softly. Her optics flickered upward, toward where the faint light was. "Not as strong...but an agent nevertheless."

Arcee's frown deepened as an unexplained feeling of dread filled her. "An agent?" she asked, but Ark was brushing her aside and approaching Barricade. They conversed in hushed tones, too soft for Arcee to hear. Yet Barricade pulled back, reaching for his comm link. "I'm informing Soundwave of this," he said.

Ark nodded. "You do that," she said, and Arcee's concern grew as she watched the exchange between them. She then watched in astonishment as Ark slipped away, vanishing through another passage. Arcee stepped forward, only for Bonecrusher to stop her with a sharp claw.

"Let the femme go," he said gruffly. "She knows what she is doing."

"It's dangerous for her to be out there alone!" Arcee protested.

"It is dangerous for her to reside here with us," Barricade answered simply.

Arcee wrenched her arm free, scowling. "How would she know that an agent of Unicron resides here? And she should not be separating from the group! Megatron gave us specific orders to scout out the area and-"

" _Scrap,"_ they heard Frenzy hiss through the comm link. " _There's a large predacon resting on the cliff side. Might be sleeping, but then again, darn beast might see us."_

Barricade looked as if he was ready to respond and issue an order, but he never got the chance as a loud roar that shook the very walls around them rang out through the air.

* * *

Predaking looked ever the picture of ease and comfort. Set up high on a pillar, curled up in the fading light, he gave off the illusion of one relaxing.

In fact, it was a strategic move. At least, that was what he thought. The very vantage point gave him view of almost every single passage through the mountains he knew of, and he knew plenty of passages. His optics shifted around, alert as his tail curled in anticipation. But every single part of his body stayed still for the most part.

His spark thrummed in anticipation for what was to come. He had waited so long, so long for the taste of freedom. No longer would that witch have control of him. No more would he be confined.

Something dark caught his attention, and he looked up sharply, trying to focus on the movement. It was gone by the time he focused on that area. He frowned, remembering where that passage led to, and he could only wonder why someone in their right spark would head in the area that was reserved for Antagony specifically. Even he did not like going there.

Another flash, this one silver, caught his attention. This time, he was able to make out the small, silver form of a Cybertronian. But the small being was quick and vanished, but Predaking had been able to make out the form of the minicon.

His smirk of triumph grew, and he unfurled his wings and straightened up, letting a loud roar tear through his throat and echo all around the caverns that was his prison. A prison he would shatter.

* * *

" _That the signal?"_

" _Yeah that's the signal you idiot! Bust it open!"_

Bumblebee blinked tiredly, his audio receptors still aching from the loud roar that had echoed around them. Even in the sealed prison cell, they had all heard the roar. But what confused him was the sound of two large mechs arguing outside the prison doors.

The walls around them shook as the cell doors exploded around them. Bumblebee let out a sharp breath, an action that paiend him, as dust filled his wounds and his optics. He blinked, trying to make sense of the large beings that towered before them.

" _Can't believe we are doing this,"_ Skylynx grumbled as he clawed at the very restraints that held Smokescreen captive. Smokescreen stared up in shock, but hastily scrambled over to Bumblebee.

" _Well, believe it,"_ Darksteel stated as he freed Firestar. The femme growled before transforming and flying toward Bumblebee whom Smokescreen was trying to release. With one swipe of her sharp claws, the cuffs came off and Bumblebee collapsed into Smokescreen's arms. He tried to upright himself, a servo covering his bleeding throat, but Smokescreen still supported him.

" _What is the meaning of this?"_ Firestar growled as she planted herself between the two mechs and the predacons.

Skylynx hissed, ignoring her as he took in the sight Bumblebee was left in. " _Slag, that don't look good."_

"He needs a medic, fast," Smokescreen said as he propped Bumblebee up against the wall and tried to stop the slow trickle of energon.

" _Has the bleeding worsened?"_ Darksteel asked anxiously, his optics flickering towards the ruined, smoking doors.

Smokescreen paused, unsure, before he shook his helm. "Um, no."

"I'm...fine," Bumblebee rasped, standing up.

" _Good,"_ Darksteel muttered. " _Then get moving. We have wasted enough time as it is."_ He paused and looked at Smokescreen who was helping a groaning Bumblebee to his pedes. " _I suppose that the plan must be changed for a bit. You will have to stay behind with him."_ He nodded to Firestar who was still standing protectively in front of Smokescreen and Bumblebee. " _You will come with me."_

" _I am not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on!"_ Firestar snapped, growling dangerously.

" _The Cybertronians are here!"_ Darksteel snapped, impatient. " _Do not ask me how, or why, they just are."_

" _Predaking planned the who thing,"_ Skylynx said, a hint of urgency in his voice. " _At least, we think he did. To be honest we are not sure how he managed to alert the Cybertronians to our presence."_

" _But he did, and we need to use this moment,"_ Darksteel snapped. He pointed at Firestar. " _You will work with me and and Skylynx to create a distraction while the two weakling mechs escape."_

"What about those devices on your necks!" Smokescreen protested. He yelped as Skylynx started shoving them out of the cell. Bumblebee picked up his the pace, servo over his wounded neck as he forced himself to walk.

" _We will work past the pain,"_ Darksteel said, though there was uncertainty in his voice. " _There is no other way."_

"...No," Bumblebee protested, ignoring the flare of pain. "I have...no device…" He looked at Smokescreen helplessly, urging the mech to understand his unspoken words. Smokescreen frowned before watching as Bumblebee pointed to the devices on their necks, then to the lighting around them. His optics widened in understanding.

"Is there an electrical grid we can destroy that would damage the links Antagony has on the devices?" he asked quickly, looking at the predacons.

Darksteel paused before transforming into his mech form. "There is. But we do not know which one it is."

"Then we destroy them all," Smokescreen said firmly, stepping away from them. He transformed into his predacon form before flapping his wings and grabbing Bumblebee gently in his claws. " _You three stick to the plan. I am going to get the two of us to that grid."_

" _But Bee is injured!"_ Firestar protested. But the glare Bumblebee sent her silenced her for a small moment.

"Go!" Bumblebee ordered, his voice shaking, causing them to snap into action. Darksteel, Skylynx and Firestar launched into the air while Smokescreen flew away with Bee held safely in his grip.

* * *

Ark stepped forward on the ground carefully, the light of the lava and the heat causing her discomfort, yet she pushed on. She gripped the explosives she was given, silently calculating how best to use them.

Her optics fell on the steel support systems and she noted how they were keeping the very large, central cavern up. Her optics flickered around to the mechanical, active monitors. She cocked her helm when she realized that these very thick support systems were keeping the fragile caverns stable.

With a smirk, she grabbed one bomb out of the container while setting the box down. She figured that one charge should be enough to shake the foundation.

She carefully stepped forward before a feeling of dread filled her spark. Instincts kicking in, she dropped to the floor and rolled away just as a wave of electricity incinerated the rock she had been standing in front of previously.

A growl of frustration escaped her lips, and Ark leaped to her pedes, staff out and ready. Her optics searched the dim, warm cavern, and she stepped away from the steady lava flow.

"You are far from home, little child," a voice said. Ark's gaze snapped to the the entrance of the passage to take in the sight of a tall black armored femme. The femme's purple optics glowed with malice as she regarded Ark. "Or maybe you are a lost child who is searching for a home."

"I found my home," Ark growled, servo transforming into a blaster and shooting at the femme.

The dark femme blocked the blasters with her electric staff before leaping away from the dangerous spot in the cavern that left her vulnerable. Ark took that small distraction to run toward the support systems, getting ready to toss the bomb.

A blaster shot sounded and Ark dropped the bomb with a scream as a blaster bolt went through her servo. She hissed in pain, gripping her staff in her uninjured servo and turned to face the other femme.

"I could sense your corrupted spark signature," the femme said lightly as she strode toward Ark, her stance ready to fight. "It was a very telling signature." She paused, pouting for a minute. "Although, you left the practice, and our hold losend on you."

"Precisely why I left," Ark stated as she launched forward, her own electric staff activating. The witch seemed ready however, and blocked the attack with trained ease. The infuriating smugness did not leave her optics, and her expression did not change as Ark and her became locked in a desperate battle.

"Were you trying to topple my sanctuary?" the witch pouted. "Very naughty of you child. My predacons will deal with you soon enough." Her optics flickered over to the steaming lava flow. "Or the fire of the mountains will consume you."

"My the fire of the Pits consume your wickedness," Ark growled. She pressed all her weight into knocking the femme off balance before throwing her staff at the witch. The femme shrieked as the staff skewered through her shoulder, though she snapped off the ends of the staff as her energon dripped and hissed on the floor.

"You discarded your weapon," the femme growled in triumph. "You have no weapon!" Though the triumph left her optics as Ark rushed at her with activated swords. The witch scrambled on the defense, blocking the new style of attack with her staff.

Just as Ark felt that she had the upper hand, a ground bridge opened up behind her. Ark pushed past the distraction, knowing that the witch was to be her top priority. Yet she also knew it could cost her her life if she ignored the new arrival.

All these thoughts filled her mind, and she came to a swift decision to focus on the witch while twisting away from the danger she knew lurked behind. Yet she was not fast enough as a blaster bolt slammed into her side. With a cry of pain, she fell to the burning ground.

"Looks like you are in need of assistance, Antagony," the new arrival said as he activated his sword in one servo while wielding a blaster in the other.

Antagony grinned. "Always eager to assist a lady, Dirge." Her cold optics focused on Ark who struggled to stand. "Now, assist this femme through her misery."

Ark growled, optics sparking as her swords vanished, only to be replaced by wrist blades. Crouching down low on the ground, she readied her stance. "Cumbersome swords," she muttered.

Antagony grinned, electric rode sizzling with dangerous energy in ehr servos. "I couldn't agree more."

* * *

Bumblebee held in his pained gasps as he gripped Smokescreen's claws for support as they crashed through the thick, glass windows that was obviously the main headquarters of super evil crazy witch femme and her traitorous partners. Honestly, this made his job all the more easier. Now if only Bumblebee could try to push past the pain that was lodged in his chassis.

He leaped to his pedes quickly before rushing to the consoles. "Electric...power!" he gasped, searching around for the main power source. If they could destroy the main power source, there was a good chance they could cut off whatever energy was powering up the devices on the predacons.

Smokescreen transformed, running to Bumblebee's side. "There!" he exclaimed, rushing to the console. "At least, it looks like this is it."

Bumblebee nodded. "Blast it!" he rasped.

Smokescreen nodded and stepped back, only for his optics to widen with pain as he collapsed to the ground, screaming and tearing at his throat. Bumblebee rushed forward, unsure how to put an end to his friend's suffering. Looking up with narrowed optics, his servos transformed into blasters, aiming at the console.

Something slammed into him with an electric force, and Bumblebee was sent flying into the shattered glass walls that overlooked the caverns below. His optics snapped to witness Sentinel approach him, blaster out, as well as the device in his servo that was causing Smokescreen such misery.

Sentinel frowned as he stared at Bumblebee. Smokescreen had ceased screaming in pain, until Sentinel's frown deepened and he pressed once more on the device. Bumblebee was scrambling to his pedes as his friend's pain continued, yet Sentinel lashed out at him with a dagger.

But Bumblebee saw the dagger, and he ducked, bareling right into the older mech. The dagger was sent flying away as they both collided into the wall. Bumblebee knew he had to act fast. While he was younger and faster, he was also injured. That was a fact Sentinel took advantage of. He jabbed his servos into Bumblebee's wounds, twisting and causing Bumblebee to pull back with a scream as he felt his voice box crack.

Sentinel lashed out with a kick, sending Bumblebee falling back. He gripped the sides of the broken window, yet his descent doward did not stop. His servos cut and bled as he tried to hold on, the sounds of Smokescreen screaming his name filling his hearing.

Yet none of it stopped his fall. The glass broke, and Bumblebee plummeted to the ground. He could not even scream as he fell, the ground eager to receive him.

The breath was knocked out of him as something large slammed into him. The white predacon who had caught him curled his wings around Bumblebee, protecting the yellow mech from the fall. Bumblebee's insides were jared as they crashed into the ground, the predacon letting out a pained groan as his body continued to spasm with pain.

The wings that had protected him fell back, and Bumblebee scrambled to his pedes quickly, looking into the predacons pained filled optics. "Smoke...Smokescreen!" he gasped. He looked back up at the main headquarters with narrowed optics. Their advantage of destroying the power source was ruined, but at the moment, Sentinel seemed content with causing them misery. He could faintly hear the screams of the predacons echoing around him. Hopelessness clenched his spark as he was faced with the impossible task of escaping this Pit.

There was nothing more condemning then failing.

He bowed his helm before rising to his pdes, focusing his glare on the very spot he knew Sentinel was. Smokescreen's pained cries had been reduced to whimpers, yet a jolt of pain would still surge through his body.

Bumblebee strode forward, only for Smokescreen to transform and reach for him. "Don't.." Smokescreen gasped. "Don't go alone."

It didn't matter if he had to do it alone. It didn't matter if he could survive. All that mattered was if he could give his comrades a chance. Even now, he cursed Predaking for his hastiy plan that was getting them killed and forcing them into this situation. Where was the backup he claimed to have?

A roar sounded up ahead, and he looked up with wide optics to witness Firestar crash through the broken glass that Smokescreen had destroyed. A green figure was in her claws, and Bumblebee barely had time to realize that he recognized the tiny green femme before a familiar voice warmed his spark and caught his attention.

"Bumblebee!"

He had never turned faster then before as he spun around, optics wide with shock as he took in the sight of the mighty blue femme who stood before him, her optics matching his feelings of wonder and pleasant surprise.

"Arcee!"

Then the ground beneath them began to shake.


	38. Chapter 37

"Why am I not surprised that it is Sentinel behind this whole mess?" Megatron grumbled.

Optimus Prime raised an optic ridge, yet he said nothing. But his mate seemed to have no problem voicing her opinion. _"Because you have a good instinct, yet like an idiot, you have no problem ignoring it."_

Megatron growled before pressing his finger to the comm link. "You didn't seem to have a problem trusting him for over ten thousand years with your Autobot information during the war," he snapped.

 _"Yet you were foolish enough to trust a willing traitor,"_ Elita-One replied simply.

"You and Soundwave are supposed to be monitoring our coordinates," Optimus reminded them, bringing an end to the argument. "I am surprised that you have yet to find anything of use."

 _"Prowl's team reported nothing of interest,_ " Elita replied. _"Yet Soundwave is able to detect no more than seven life signatures that are not from our teams."_

Megatron frowned. "That's it? They do not have soldiers stationed anywhere?"

 _"If the entire base if filled with predacons, then there is no need to have such a large guard,"_ Elita answered. She paused, and Optimus's feeling of discomfort increased. _"Though he has been able to detect multiple energy signatures residing below the mountain. Possibly an army."_

"How many?" Megatron demanded.

 _"Many,"_ came her response. _"Yet the large life signatures of the predacons started to mesh together after that roar."_

"It was a signal," Optimus said grimly. "A signal for what, we do not know." He felt Elita's worry, her thoughts straying to Bumblebee. Her thoughts and worries matched his own, and he desperately wanted to burst out into the open and demand were Bumblebee was. Yet years of combat training and experience forced him to remain still and follow the plan.

"Why don't we find out?" Megatron asked. His optics narrowed as he glanced out of the small opening that led to the large cavern. As soon as he did, a trio of predacons descended downward, and bot Megatron and Optimus stiffened up. Yet the predacons seemed oblivious to their presence and instead started shrieking their unholy roars. Fire spewed from their mouths as they destroyed the many security feeds and anything in their way.

"A rebellion?" Optimus asked, glancing at Megatron.

The Decepticon leader met his gaze. "We shall find out soon enough. I grow tired of this waiting."

"Do not make any rash decisions," Optimus warned, despite the fact that it was exactly what he wanted to do. The ground shook as a predacon slammed against the metal doors not too far away from their hiding place. "Wait for backup. Prowl and the others are on their way."

"As is Barricade," Megatron said. "But something tells me that if we do not act now, we will miss this opportunity."

No sooner had the words left his mouth then did several figures burst through a passage. Both Optimus and Megatron leveled their blasters at the new arrivals.

"Hey, hey!" Frenzy shrieked, throwing his servos up for protection. "We're friendlies!"

A roar pierced through the air once more as the predacons seemed to come to a halt suddenly. This time, their roars were turned into screams as they fell from the sky. Their helms banged up against the sharp rock, as if to rid themselves of the pain inside their helms.

A large, red predacon fell in front of their small hiding place. Its armor shifted and formed, as if uncertain what shape to take as it screamed.

"Not friendly!" Frenzy declared as the predacon's sharp, blue optics focused on them.

* * *

Arcee stared in frozen horror as the predacon stared at them, its gaze focused on the center of the group, regardless of the many weapons pointed at it. The armor shifted once more to the form of a Cybertronian, yet the cries of pain did not stop. Electric waves seemed to spring from the poor creature's throat, yet she dropped to her knees before them in submission.

"My Prime," she choked out before collapsing, her servos gripping at the lose rock as another spasm of pain wracked through her.

Recognition flooded through Arcee, an act that was shared by two only Autobots. Without a word and ignoring the obvious threat, Optimus Prime lunged forward, gathering the whimpering femme in his arms. Beside Arcee, Moonracer stood, frozen.

"Is-is that...Firestar?" she asked, her voice choking up. Arcee could only nod mutely.

Firestar clung to Optimus as another cry tore through her throat, the electric torture covering her entire helm. Optimus's blue optics narrowed, and he turned Firestar over on her back. He placed his servo firmly on her throat before snatching at the black device that was so tightly lodged there.

Energon spilled out of the new wound he was creating, and Firestar's screams intensified. Yet Optimus did not stop as he dug at the device before pulling his servos back. Firestar's screams faded to relieved gasps, her body suddenly going limp.

Optimus's expression was unreadable, yet his optics were fierce with rage as he gazed at the device in his energon soaked servos. He held it out for Megatron to see as the Decepticon leader strode forward. Megatron's red optics narrowed as he snatched the device away. "A slave chip!" he spat.

"You are free from it now," Optimus said as he helped Firestar to her pedes. "Rest now."

"No," Firestar rasped, a servo over her bleeding throat. Her voice shook, and Arcee just now realized how deep Optimus had to go to get it off of her.

"We...we need to help...Bumblebee," she gasped. Even now, she was struggling to speak. "Electric...power core. Destroy it."

Moonracer gasped while Arcee rushed forward. "Bumblebee! Where is he?"

Firestar winced as she turned, her optics focused down the cavern. She simply pointed, and Arcee's spark was filled with dread as she took in the shattered glass. Already, she could make out the form of a struggling predacon, its screams easy to make out.

"Oh Primus," she muttered, her steps carrying her forward as she broke out into a run.

"Decepticons!" she heard Megatron bellow. "Disable the power core! Bring this Pit down on these traitors!"

"Autobots! Rally with the Decepticons!" Optimus Prime ordered.

Arcee was already running, transforming as she did so, her wheels carrying her faster then her legs ever could. She heard the sounds of a predacons roar, and the many rocks tumbling from the ceiling forced her to transform back just in time to see a white predacon crash to the ground, a small being cradled in its wings.

She was running, regardless of the danger she might be putting herself in. The mech that the white predacon had tried to protect stood up, straight and tall. Though his armor was changed, she would still recognize him anywhere.

"Bumblebee!" she screamed.

His blue optics locked on hers, a mixture of shock and joy.

"Arcee!" he shouted.

She never reached him as the ground beneath them began to shake, and the very foundation was destroyed as it opened up. The white mech with Bumblebee weakley transformed, yet a boulder crashed into its wings, pinning it to the ground as it screamed in pain.

Bumblebee's knees buckled beneath him as he lost his footing, the ground opening beneath him. He was torn away from Arcee as he fell through the gaping hole. In that exact moment, the lights that surrounded the caves plunged into darkness.

* * *

Ark leaped backward just as a blaster bolt from Dirge grazed her pedes. She lashed out with her wrist blades, clawing at Antagony. The witch let out a shriek as the blades hit their marks, yet she was stronger then Ark and flipped the smaller femme over.

Ark hissed in pain as she got too close to the heat, her metal armor reacting to the close proximity of the lava. She quickly scrambled up before seeking cover.

She was outnumbered and outgunned. Yet, as her optics flickered over to the bombs, she realized that she could still perform her mission. And possibly take a few traitors with her.

"I like you. You are a strong one," Antagony purred from the darkness. Ark crouched down, using the rock as a protection, her back pressed up against it. She winced as as her damaged servo throbbed with pain from where Antagony had shot her, yet she focused on the sounds around her. She could hear Dirge's cautious pede steps, and how he powered up his blaster. No doubt his optics were flickering around in search of her as he unknowingly approached her hiding spot.

Yet for all that she was hearing and seeing, she could not detect the witch, her true threat. Her spark clenched, not in fear, but in anticipation of what was to come.

"As an agent of Unicron," the witch continued, and Ark could have sworn that the witch was standing right behind her. She shook the thought away. It was a trick, she reminded herself. She had seen this type of trick before used on helpless Cybertronians to drive them mad with fear and expose themselves rashely to their enemies where the witches would finish them off.

"I get to use all the fun tools that come along with the job," the witch finished, her voice dropping to a snarl. "And I will use them on you! I will make you a new creation. My own personal art!"

Ark's optics snapped open as she detected the negative energy that now filled the room. She leaped away from her hiding spot just as Dark Energon pierced through the ground she had previously stood on. Rolling to a stop, she sprung upwards just in time to block Dirge's blaster bolts with her swords.

Like a caged animal who was corned, Ark fought ferociously. She refused to die in vain. If she was going to die, then this entire mountain would fall from her acts.

Yet apparently, someone else had ideas.

Large claws scraped against the entrance of the passageway, clearing a path for the large beast who emerged from the cavern. His golden optics narrowed as the beast let out a shriek. Both Ark and Dirge paused in their attacks, optics wide. In that moment, they both scrambled back as predacon fire filled the room from the enraged beast.

"Antagony!" Ark heard Dirge shout as he cowered behind a boulder. "Control your beast!"

Ark pushed herself up, relying on her senses instead of her sight as the cavern was filled with dirt and smoke. Yet even her hearing betrayed her.

A flash of purple caught her attention, and Ark barely had time to react before Antagony appeared before her, a shard of glowing, dark energon in her servos. Her features were twisted in an unholy sneer as the dark power of the Chaos Bringer filled her.

"See what I mean by 'fun tools'?" she snarled, her optics glowing.

Ark's optics narrowed as she pressed herself into the shadows. She used the dark and chaos to her advantage as a way to escape and form a better plan. Her optics flickered toward the bombs, and she dashed towards them, only for another wave of fire to block her way.

"Antagony!" Dirge continued yelling. The predacon continued its wild rampage, this time focusing on the witch. Dirge took advantage of the beast's distraction, taking aim with his blaster.

Ark did not know where the predacon stood, but she did know where Dirge stood, and it was not on her side.

With a flick of her wrist, a dagger was in her servos. With quick, practiced ease, she launched the dagger at Dirge. The weapon flew straight and true as the mech never saw the dagger coming until it was lodged deeply into his shoulders. With a cry of pain, he crumbled to the floor. "Antagony!" he screamed.

Antagony just cackled, unfazed by her companions distress or of the predacon that was charging toward her. The Dark Energon seemed to hum in her servos as she raised it, ready to wield its power against the predacon.

Ark reacted, taking advantage of the witch's unprotected back. She lashed out, wrist blades vanishing and transforming into swords. She stabbed her weapons into the witch's shoulders, wincing as contaminated energon burned through her armor. Antagony let out a shriek, jerking back and away from the weapons. Dirge's enraged yell caught Ark's attention, and she looked up just in time to see him rush away from the edge of the lava flow and toward her, his optics alight with rage.

Yet the predacon reacted quickly. Turning swiftly, his spiked, long tail lashed out and slammed into Dirge's body. With a choke, Dirge was flung backward. His optics widened as he fell, his descent picking up speed as he tumbled downward and into the steaming lava.

Screaming, Dirge scrambled at the edge of the ground, trying to escape the unforgiving, ravaging lava. His screams increased, only to be choked off as the predacon's fire held him back.

Ark looked away from the horrifying sight, yet she could not do anything to ward off the dying screams as Dirge was consumed by the lava.

Yet her momentary distraction left her open for an attack, a fact she quickly realized as she saw the Dark Energon in Antagony's servo descend down toward her. Ark was not fast enough to move as she brought her sword up to block the dagger. Her wounded servo creaked with protest as it transformed into a weakened sword, and the dark Energon shattered against it.

A choked, horrified gasp escaped from Ark's mouth as she felt the power of the Chaos Bringer probe at her wound. She wrenched away as the witch's grin of triumph widened.

A roar filled Ark's audio receptors, and a looming shadow was cast over her. The witch's grin of triumph was replaced by a grimace of pain. She gasped, choking as both she and Ark focused their gazes on the tip of the sword poking through her chassis.

As if shocked, Antagony let out a choked laugh as she stared as the weapon that had skewered her spark. Glancing once more at Ark, her purple optics dimmed as she fell back, the dark Energon slipping from her lifeless servos.

Ark blinked and scooted back from the dead body. The looming shadow that had towered over the witch was in fact a tall, armored mech, his bright gold optics alight with hatred as he stared at Antagony. Yet there was no time for Ark to wonder if he was a threat to her as she felt the Dark Energon wound travel up her arm. With a gasp of pain, she transformed her sword into her servo once more, but it did nothing to stop the flow.

"Help me," she gasped desperately, staring up at the golden mech who towered over her. "Please, get rid of it!"

The mech knelt down next to her, golden optics narrowed. "What must I do?" he asked.

She gritted her denta as she felt the Dark Energon reach her shoulder. "Cut it off, now." The mech blinked, the first emotion of surprise on his face. "Cut it off now!" she screamed desperately as hysterics took over her. She could not be corrupted by the Dark Energon, she could not. She had a duty to fulfill to her Heir and to Megatron. That was more important to her then her arm.

She felt the mech grab her roughly by the shoulders before shoving her into the ground. She gasped as she felt the sharp, cold metal of a sword pierce through her armor. She tried to hold in her screams as pain exploded through her, yet she failed at that. Darkness consumed her as the pain became too much for her to withstand.

* * *

Predaking towered over the small, unconscious dark femme, blue energon pooling out of her wound. Having blacked out when he was sawing off her arm, he was able to study her without her screams filling the empty cave. Descareded far away from her was the arm he had quickly chopped off, the purple lifeblood of Unicron dripping out of it.

He looked back at the body of the witch who had caused him so much pain from the start. Her dark, dead optics stared back up at him, a mixture of surprise and pain frozen on her face. Yet on her face, still, was that maddening smirk.

He felt a twinge of disappointment. He had hoped that she would have seen his face, to know who had delivered the killing blow. Yet she had died too quickly. But he had reacted rashly with no thought in mind. He saw a threat, and he took care of it.

With a scowl and a swift kick, he shoved her body into the lava. Fire erupted as her dead body melted and sunk into the fire, never to rise again.

His optics flickered over to the bombs he had seen the femme trying to get to. When he had followed her after catching the dark blur that he identified as her armor, he had not known what he would find. But he was glad he had followed.

With a frown, he observed the bombs before looking back at the structures that were holding the foundation of the mountains.

He smirked as he realized what the femme had intended to do, and he could already tell he liked her already.

* * *

Moonracer did not know what had possessed her to join Firestar in storming the cliffside where the electric grid was. But she knew she had to do something. Yet flying in the claws of a predacon once more was not exactly pleasant, given her previous flights. Yet from such a height, she had caught a blur of yellow armor. Without even having a clear view, she knew that it was Bumblebee, that he was down there safely. His name had escaped her lips, whether she screamed or whispered it, she did not know or care.

She eagerly landed on the floor, glass and debris crunching beneath her pedes. Her optics were drawn to the lone Cybertronian in the room, and a stab of betrayal ran through her. Despite knowing about his intentions, the reality of Sentinel's treachery came back to her in full force.

Sentinel's optics narrowed, and his blaster was raised. Moonracer was shoved out of the way by Firestar, the predacon's hard armor taking the brunt of the blasts. Moonracer's optics focused on the electric grid, and the sounds of the predacons screams outside urging her on.

Yet as she scrambled to her pedes, Sentinel stood in her way.

"You will not succeed," he growled, advancing toward her.

With a mighty predacon at her back, and the fact that Bumblebee was alive filled her with strength. Yet rage consumed her as she regarded this mech who had dared to harm the mech she considered a brother.

This filth of a traitor dared to keep her from him!

"By the will of Primus," she declared, pulling out the fake Key boldly. "You will fall."

Sentinel's optics widened as he took in the Key to Vector Sigma. Taking advantage of his shock, Moonracer flung the Key out through the open. She did not know what Arcee had intended to use the Key for, but she was determined to use it.

"No!" Sentinel screamed, scrambling for it.

The sound of someone transforming caught Moonracer's attention, and she turned to see Firestar lunge forward, clawed servos out. With a scream, she shoved her sharp servos into Sentinel's midsection. The mech choked, scrambling back, only for his pedes to meet thin air. With wide optics, he plunged out the window.

Firestar did not look away for a moment. Her optics trained on Moonracer, narrowed and fierce; beastlike. "Destroy the grid!"

That was all the encouraging Moonracer needed. Despite the sudden eruption from the ground and the destroyed foundation, Moonracer's sharpshooter abilities took over as her blaster bolt flew straight into the heart of the electric grid, plunging everything into darkness.

Her senses disoriented, Moonracer let out a scream as she felt the claws of a predacon wrap around her. She was pulled away and out the window. The flight became a fall as Firestar plunged downward. It took Moonracer a moment realize that the screams she was hearing were not her own, but someone else's. She could make out the faint outline of a white predacon struggling beneath a pile of rubble, his screams of pain easy to identify.

She was dumped to the shaking ground, and she barely got her pedes beneath her. Someone else gripped her waist, supporting her up, and she could faintly see the outline of Frenzy thanks to the ground bridge provided for them as an escape.

"I got you mean greenie," Frenzy said as he dragged her toward the ground bridge.

"Wait! Firestar!" Moonracer screamed as she watched the red predacon push aside the boulders, uncovering the white predacon. With a roar, she picked him up and dragged him toward the ground bridge.

"Stop!" Moonracer screamed as she felt someone else pick her up and charge toward the ground bridge. "Where's Bumblebee! Please! We can't leave him!"

* * *

In his large servos, Predaking still held the unconscious femme. Atop a cliff, he observed the mountain with a frown. Why was the foundation still standing? Darksteel and Skylynx had escaped, and he had activated the bombs, so why was nothing happening?

The femme in his arms stirred and she quickly placed her pedes down on the ground. With a frown, she regarded the device in his servos before snatching it away from him. "It's this button," she said simply, pressing it.

With that action, Predaking witnessed with a smile how the mountain began to cave from the bombs she had activated.

* * *

Arcee leaped forward and into the small hole that Bumblebee fell through. She grabbed at his servos, yet she slipped and was dragged in with him as well. The ground shifted and groaned beneath them, yet she continued to hold on as they met the rough ground of the rocky mountain.

"Hold on," she grunted, the ground beneath her pedes unstable. "I've got you." Desperation clawed at her spark. She refused to let him go. If he was going to fall, she would fall with him. Even as she felt the cliff crumble beneath her, she would not let him go.

But that still meant she wanted them both out of here alive.

Warm servos wrapped around her waist, and she looked up into his blue optics that were dim with pain, yet seemed to brighten up when he looked at her. She noticed none of his wounds, none of the chaos around her. All she saw was the proof before her that he was alive and with her.

"I've...got you," he said, his voice hoarse.

Arcee's optics narrowed in determination, and she clung to him even tighter as another shockwave ran through the system of the caves. This time, it was louder than ever, and the ceiling within them began to collapse. She could faintly hear Optimus's orders to fall back.

But she knew they would not be able to, already the cliff they were on was crumbling. She and Bumblebee would fall to their deaths, and be buried alive beneath the mountain.

She gripped Bumblebee's damaged armor, a reassurance that he was still there. With one servo, she reached for her comm link in a last attempt at escape. "Soundwave, I need a bridge!"

The mountain seemed to roar much like the predacons it held prisoner before the walls and ceiling fell within themselves. Bumblebee's hold on her tightened as they fell, and she could hear his sharp intake of breath and the fear radiating from him, a fear she shared.

"Soundwave, now!" she screamed, squeezing her optics shut as she held onto Bumblebee.

A flash of green caused her to open her optics just as the hard, metal ground of the Decepticon headquarters met both her and Bumblebee. Arcee gasped in shock, and she felt Bumblebee's servos shake as he held her, relief crashing through his systems. Her optics flickered around her to confirm that yes, they were indeed, safe at last.

She looked back at Bumblebee, their matched expressions of relief identical. She reached out hesitantly to touch his face, feeling him without a sense of worry and panic. He stared up at her, as if not daring to believe that she was with him.

"Forgive me," she said, her voice soft. "For leaving you there. For not coming sooner."

He just pulled her close, and she could feel the warmth of his spark connect with her own. She felt him kiss her helm, and she relaxed in his embrace.

"I love you," he said softly, and Arcee's world was made right again.

* * *

 **Author's Note: If you all are nice, I might give you all two chapters tomorrow ;)**


	39. Chapter 38

The whole experience had been a nerve wracking one for Elita-One. She had faced down many battles, tortures, death and pain in her life. She had been forced to make dreadful decisions for what she told herself was the greater good. She knew when to give and receive orders. She knew how to follow those orders through. Yet even now, being forced by her Prime, by her mate, to stay and monitor the systems with a slightly injured Soundwave was pushing her to the brink.

She wanted to be there, to search for Bumblebee, to rip out the spark of the very one who had taken and tortured him. She understood that Soundwave required assistance as he was still suffering from the recent predacon attacks. If, by recent, then a few hours ago, then yes, very recent.

But still, Soundwave seemed to be holding up fine enough. He was monitoring the security systems and staying alert to ground bridge requests. He and Elita-One worked in sync, as if they had worked together before. The lives of others resided on them, and they thrived under the pressure.

All had been quiet, until the screams for a ground bridge had pierced through the comm link systems. Soundwave had reacted quickly, and Elita immediately recognized the voice belonging to Arcee. She had rushed over to Soundwave's side, prepping the ground bridge. Soundwave was still as he tried to locate the flickering life signature that was Arcee's.

Elita realized with growing dread that the only reason for Arcee's life signature to be moving in such a way meant that she was falling from a great distance at a rapid pace.

Yet Soundwave positioned the coordinates beneath the life signature, and the sound of the ground bridge coming to life had never felt more rewarding. Elita-One rushed into the room, only to stop and stare at the sight of Arcee and a mech on the floor, clinging to each other as if they were afraid to be broken apart.

She recognized this mech instantly. She had held him when he was a sparkling, comforted him when he needed it. Her spark leaped at the state he was in right now. Despite the ruined, yet different armor, she knew who he was. She was rushing forward without hesitation.

She fell to her knees, uncertain where she should touch him, yet wanting to cradle him all the same. Arcee looked up at her with tired optics. "He needs a medic," Arcee said, her voice worn, yet heavy with relief.

Elita-One nodded as she cradled Bumblebee's helm, his optics shut as his body finally succumbed to recharge. With his helm on her lap, she rubbed the side on his helm like she did when he was a sparkling.

"Get a medic," she ordered, glancing up at Soundwave when she noticed the gaping wound on Bumblebee's chassis. Arcee, though not as seriously injured as Bumblebee, still needed medical attention as well. But Elita's primary concern was Bumblebee.

"Quickly," Elita said, finally staring at Soundwave. But the silent mech did not move. He did not need to do anything, as he had already contacted Ratchet who stormed into the room, brisk and quick with his medical kit.

"It will be alright, Bumblebee," Elita said, convincing both herself and the mech she had raised from sparklinghood. "It will be alright." In that moment, utter relief crushed her at the sight of Bumblebee safe at last.

* * *

Moonracer shifted uneasily, watching the medics come and go. The flow of those entering and exiting did not slow down, and she did not know if that was a bad thing.

She bit her lip, her spark tearing up with worry. They would not let her in, not even to see Bumblebee. She had only caught a glance of him, and that had been with his chassis torn open and his voice box exposed.

The worry increased, and she feared the worse as her mind came up with worse case scenarios. She did not even know what Firestar's condition was, but to her immense relief, she had found out that Smokescreen was among the survivors. He was unconscious, and had yet to awaken, but he was alive.

Yet her spark clenched at the very thought of all those she knew who had lost their lives at the hunt. She closed her optics, trying to remind herself that she should be grateful that her friends had survived, if it was only three of them.

Yet she still grieved for those who did not come home to the expectant families. But even now, she could catch sight of Prowl hovering over Smokescreen with worry. The relief he displayed was the most emotion she had ever seen on his face before.

Strong, warm arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. She leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of her beloved's spark as he held her. His presence brought both a comfort and a feeling of pleasure to her worried state of mind.

"You waiting on someone?" Mirage asked, his voice light, yet there was a note of concern in his tone.

Moonracer nodded. "They won't let anyone see him." She did not have to say his name. Mirage knew how close she and Bumblebee were. She had already made it clear when she had decided to step out of the Selection to bond with Mirage that she was going to inform Bumblebee of her decision. While informing Bumblebee had made Mirage uneasy, he had reluctantly agreed that it would be for the best.

She was still eager for Bumblebee to meet Mirage. Already, her mind flashed back to her last, civil conversation with Bumblebee.

 _"I found someone, Bee. I found someone who I want to be my sparkmate."_

Then, he had been shocked, worried, and almost hurt. But he still supported her then, just as she knew he supported her now. And she was sure there would be many more moments to create in the future. She hoped so.

"He will pull through," Mirage said. "He's a tough little springer."

Moonracer chuckled, knowing full well that when Bumblebee awoke, he would give the medics a hard time.

"When we were sparklings," she said softly. "More like, younglings actually, Bumblebee would recite the entire covenant of Primus to the medics. It would drive them crazy. Then, he would shout at them that Primus himself had stated in his covenant that 'thou shalt not provoke thy sparklings to wrath!'"

Mirage grinned. "See? Tough little springer."

Yes, Bumblebee was tough. But that was when they had been young and sheltered. The only medical visits they required were for checkups and spar injuries. Now, though Bumblebee was stable, his injuries might just cost him.

She looked up at the approaching mechs that rushed down the halls. Their optics were alight with concern as they stopped before Moonracer.

"How are they?" Hot Rod demanded as he stopped, breathing heavily. The Twins stopped behind him, anxious looks on their faces

"Stable," Moonracer assured them, trying to hide the tight worry she was feeling. "But he and Smokescreen haven't awoken yet. Out of the three of them, Firestar has the minor injuries."

"And that is saying something," Mirage commented.

Hot Rod glanced at the closed medical doors with concern. "Can...can we go in?"

Moonracer shook her helm regretfully. "They won't let us-" She stopped when the med bay door was open, and a worn out Red Alert looked at them all. Her optics fell on Moonracer, and she smiled softly. "Bumblebee is asking for you," she said.

Moonracer's spark skipped. "He's awake?"

Red Alert nodded and stepped aside as Moonracer rushed forward. Mercifully, the mechs let her through first as she hurried into the medical room.

* * *

"His injuries are quite...severe," Ratchet said finally, glancing at Optimus who hovered near the med table that Bumblebee rested on. "His voice box…" Ratchet sighed, shaking his helm. "We will not know if he will be able to speak properly until a few days have passed."

Optimus nodded grimly, optics downcast. "Understood."

"Had I seen him sooner," Ratchet continued, his optics heavy with regret. "I would have certainly been able to have repaired his voice box in no time."

"You did all that you could," Elita-One said from the other side of the med table. She was clutching Bumblebee's scarred and damaged servo, her optics never leaving his peaceful, resting face. "And for that, we are grateful."

Grateful did not even describe how Optimus felt. "How are the others?" he asked.

"Firestar's voice box needed only minor adjustments," Ratchet said. "Though I am glad you removed the slave chip when you did. She would have damaged her voice box had you not ripped it apart. Though she will have difficulty talking for the next few days, and her energon will be served to her as a softer, liquid formula." He sighed as he flipped through the data pad. "Smokescreen has suffered a broken leg and a fractured servo. He will be confined to bed rest, and his throat is damaged from the electric shocks from the slave chips." He grumbled under his breath. "Don't even get me started on the damage done to their armor."

Placing the datapad down, Ratchet straightened up. "The point is, the near death experience is over, but the med bay visits are not."

Optimus nodded once more. "Thank you, old friend." He glanced back at Bumblebee's who's optics blinked open. He looked around in confusion before his optics rested on those surrounding him.

"Hello little one," ELita said, her voice cracking slightly and thick with emotion as she brushed a servo down his cheek. He leaned into her touch, sighing and content. He finally looked up with worry. "A...Arcee?" he choked out.

"Ep, ep!" Ratchet snapped. "You are not to speak, got it?" At Bumblebee's hurried nod, Ratchet sighed. "Arcee is fine and confined to her own spot in the medical wing. She would not stop asking about you though, more concerned about your health than anything else."

A look of relief flashed over Bumblebee's face, and he looked around to make sure that, yes, Smokescreen was passed out to his right, and Firestar was resting to his left. He looked at Optimus, opening his mouth to inquire more when the Prime stopped him. "I will summon the others for you," he said with a smile.

Bumblebee sighed. "Moonracer," he said softly. Elita squeezed his servo. "She is waiting for you," she said with a smile.

Optimus turned, only to stop when Bumblebee reached out and grabbed his servo. Though he was forbidden to speak, the gesture and the look in his optics spoke volumes.

Optimus smiled down at Bumblebee, squeezing his servo back. Then, in a quick decision, Optimus went back to Bumblebee's side and gently rubbed his helm. Bumblebee's optics closed, content with the feeling that was so familiar to him.

"I am proud of you," Optimus said softly. "And I am glad to have you back." Out of the corner of his optic, he saw Red Alert scurry away, no doubt to summon those awaiting to see Bumblebee so that Optimus did not have to leave his side.

Optimus cherished those next precious few minutes had had, because in a blur, he had to move out of the way as Moonracer rushed forward. With a cry, she rushed toward Bumblebee who barely caught her with open arms. She crashed into him while avoiding his injuries, wrapping her arms around him.

"I missed you," she sobbed, clinging to him. "So much."

"Moony," Bumblebeee said as he held her close.

"Hey," a tired voice protested. "Why aren't I getting all the love?" Smokescreen slowly picked himself up, blinking his optics as he scowled at everyone. "I almost died too!" He optics flickered over. "Oh, and Firestar too." She scowled at him. "But I had more near death experiences!" he continued.

* * *

Arcee watched mutely as the nurse went about checking her wounds. She had not been permitted to move from the med bay, nor had she been allowed to see Bumblebee, a fact that irritated her to no end at all.

Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Ark approaching her. The dark femme had said nothing at all as the medics repaired her arm, the one that had been torn apart. While Ark had given Megatron a full report on what had happened, she had yet to inform Arcee.

"You will be cleared soon enough," the nurse stated dully, her red optics done examining the datapad before her. She bowed her helm before scurrying away.

Arcee just nodded, though her optics drifted to the far side of the med bay where the exit was. They had placed the Autobots and Decepticons in separate med bays, and though she knew where the med bay Bumblebee was in, she was not permitted to see him. She gripped the side of the med bay table in frustration.

"Go," a sudden voice said, and she looked up to see Ark examining her. She inclined her helm toward the doorway. "Soundwave has bypassed the security systems. I will be here to explain your absence." She paused. "And keep KnockOut from trying to change your paint job."

Gratitude showed on Arcee's face as she slid off the med berth. She had faced down predacons, uncovered traitors, and survived a collapsing mountain. One med bay was not keeping her from Bumblebee.

She nodded her thanks to Ark, brushing past her and squeezing Ark's shoulder with a small smile. Ark simply nodded, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward as Arcee scampered away.

As Arcee kept her helm down as she hurried down the halls, she glanced up briefly at the security camera that was watching her. "Thank you," she said, knowing full well that Soundwave could hear her and see the small smile on her face.

Meanwhile, alone and in the dark rooms, a very satisfied, faceless mech sat back as he watched the small blue femme make her way to the med bay.

* * *

It was only because Firestar had been ordered to save her voice that Smokescreen was spared from the scathing comments that were no doubt building up inside of her. Smokescreen himself had been escorted to a different, private room, leaving Bumblebee alone with Optimus and Elita-One. Ratchet had kicked out the others not too long ago, which Bumblebee was grateful for as the Twins had started to drop hints that they wanted to know about his 'relationship' with Arcee. Despite everything that had happened, the Twins still had a one track mind. Bumblebee had been reluctant to see Moonracer leave, but he had been curious about the unknown red mech who had stayed a good distance from them. Moonracer had shot Bumblebee a look before Ratchet pushed her out, mouthing 'we'll talk later.'

He could not wait to hear what she had to tell him. In the meantime, he was going to gather every single intel he could on this 'Mirage' character and see if he met the required standards for Moonracer.

Though Bumblebee knew Optimus and Elita did not want to leave him, he could tell that there were many duties they were ignoring for his sake. But before they left, there was one thing he wanted to get off his chassis. He wanted to tell them about Arcee, about his true feelings for her. As if being able to sense his turmoil, Optimus simply smiled at him. "Later," the Prime had said simply.

Bumblebee nodded in relief as Elita kissed his helm before leaving his side. "La-later," he said.

Now, alone in the med bay with only the machines keeping him company, Bumblebee became aware of every little thing around him.

Like the shadow for instance that approached him carefully.

Soft servos gently touched his own, searching and hopeful. Bumblebee just turned his helm to meet Arcee's worried gaze. With a smile, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her small waist, pulling toward him.

Arcee snuggled up next to him, holding him as she settled down with his arms around her. He placed a soft kiss to her helm, content with having her here with him.

"I love you too," she said softly, kissing him lightly before resting her helm on his undamaged shoulders. He smiled as he rubbed her back, transing circles on her armor which made her shiver slightly, her breath hitching up. He hummed in delight, finally at peace in the moment he had with her.

And if Ratchet came in to see Arcee asleep in Bumblebee's arms in the medical bay, so what?

* * *

Three lone beasts dug at the ruined rock that was once a mighty mountain, their sharp servos clearing much away. One beast pulled back, letting out a roar that alerted his comrades. The two beasts came forward hurriedly as a battered and wounded mech was pulled from the ruble. Clutched in the injured mech's servos was a ruined replica of the Key, destroyed like the fake it was.

Sentinel looked up, spitting out a mouthful of energon. He glared up at the predacons that towered over him. "This is not the end," he growled shakily.

 _"It is for you,"_ Predaking said simply. Though Sentinel could not understand what he had said, his widened optics indicated that he picked up on their true meaning as the fire of the three predacons descended down on him with all of the Pits fury.


	40. Epilogue

**Author's Note: Happy Valentines Day! I hope you all had a great valentines, just as these two Cybertronian lovebirds are having. Enjoy reading, thank you for reviewing, and have a blessed day!**

 **God Bless**

* * *

Arcee held in the laugh that was just threatening to break forth as she ran. Yet her movements were sloppy and she stumbled. She braced herself up against the wall before pushing off, trying to regain her bearings as she ran. She did not get more than a few feet from the wall when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

Finally, the laugh burst out as Bumblebee ran his fingers up and down her sensitive sides. She twisted around to look at him with a smirk, optics narrowed teasingly. Yet Bumblebee did not seem fazed as he pressed her up against the wall, optics alight with mischief.

"Running from your mate?" he asked, leaning close. He hummed. "Not very nice."

She squirmed, yet made no real effort to escape. "What is not nice is keeping a helpless femme against her will."

"Not helpless," Bumblebee stated with a grin. He leaned in closer till he was whispering into her audio receptors. "Not here against your will."

Her spark stuttered, yet her very outward appearance remained calm. "Yes, but I am not your mate just yet."

Bumblebee sighed before pulling away. "No," he said regretfully, his voice cracking slightly with the strain it took for him to speak. He winced, but a small smile came across his face. "But you will be."

Yes, she will be. In just a few hours, a ceremony would be held to officially bond them as mates. In just a few hours, they would be linked together, their sparks connected as they share each others thoughts and feelings.

But it would also signify a new moment for Cybertron itself when a new order would be established. The two Heirs would unite the factions, and their duties would begin in governing the troubled world. In three days time, those who were in the Selection would be presented to their future mates. In the next three days, they would be bonded to their Selected mates.

Arcee frowned, knowing that Smokescreen and Firestar intended to perform their duties and follow through with the Selection. She knew Bumblebee had told them both, Smokescreen specifically, that they did not have to go through with bonding to someone they did not know, but Smokescreen and Firestar had stayed firm in their decision. Bumblebee, as best as he could, tried to express his worry to them, stating that just because he found love with Arcee, his Selected mate, did not mean they would as well.

It still did not change their minds. Both were loyal to a fault.

Arcee had tried, and failed to find out who their Selected Decepticon mates were, but even that information had been blocked. Her efforts were in vain, no matter how hard she tried. But, Smokescreen and Firestar were going to perform their duties in the courts in governing Cybertron when all was made official, as were the many other Selected Autobots and Decepticons. Even Moonracer, who was no longer a Selected, had a spot in the new Council.

What should have been a simple, memorable event for two Cybertronians, was now a daunting, foreboding task.

Such a thought caused Arcee to frown softly, her gaze becoming thoughtful. Bumblebee noticed her change in demeanor, and though they were not bonded yet, he could sense something was weighing heavily on her mind.

He leaned forward and kissed her helm before tugging on her servo. "Come with me," he said.

"Bumblebee," she protested, yet she allowed him to lead her away. "The ceremony is in a few hours."

"We have time," he said simply as he guided her down the many halls.

"I still have to get ready," she pointed out.

"You are demanding," he replied cheekily. There was no doubt he would have said more, if his voice permitted him to do so.

She huffed, rolling her optics at his statement. "I am not demanding." She looked around with growing confusion, until understanding dawned on her as Bumblebee led her to what appeared to be an abandoned part of the building. The simple, safe rooms brought back memories of comfort and warmth.

Bumblebee silently pulled her up the steep flight of stairs, leading her up to the familiar trap door. Bumblebee firmly pushed it back, the old hinges creaking in protest as light flooded through. Arcee blinked her optics, yet with a small smile, she crawled through the trap door and onto the small, familiar balcony.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she gazed at the bustling city below her. She sat down right next to Bumblebee who settled down right at the edge. Wrapping his arms around her, she leaned into his touch, content and at peace.

"This much better than listening to Knock Out drone on about the different shadings of blue paint I should try on for the ceremony," she said.

"I like you in pink," he said thoughtfully. Here, he looked at her imploringly, optics wide and pleading. It was adorable, but it did not work on her.

She huffed, rolling her optics. "Forget it Bee."

"But I like it!" Bumblebee exclaimed.

"It's not my favorite look," she said.

He pause,d frowning thoughtfully, and she could see him struggling for words. "Compromise?" he asked with pleading optics. "You can wear pink on our anniversary?"

She frowned, actually considering it. "Fine, on our anniversary."

"Holidays of my choice?" he continued with a bright smile, ever so hopeful.

"My choice," she said. "And if I have to wear pink, then you have to change your paint color as well."

Bumblebee hesitated, but one look at Arcee, and he sighed. "Deal," he said finally. "What color?"

She smirked. "Brown."

He recoiled as if he had been stung, optics wide with horror. "No! Never mind! No pink, no pink!"

She chuckled before silencing him with a kiss. "Good idea," she said, smirking at the befuddled expression on his face. Her servos dropped down to the scarring on his chassis, worry filling her as she stared at the deformities that had robbed him of so much. His armor, still rather beast like almost, was a new form of who he was now. Not only an Autobot Heir, and not just her soon to be spark mate, but a predacon as well.

Despite all that Ratchet and dozens of other medics efforts, Bumblebee still struggled to speak. Even to form simple words caused him pain, though he still made an effort to use his voice, and he refused to use the alternative means of communication when he spoke to her. It concerned her, and she saw how much it frustrated Bumblebee with his limitations. Her spark burned with anger as she thought of the witch, and she wished it had been her who had killed Antagony, not the predacon as Ark had informed her.

Bumblebee watched her with a soft expression and gently grabbed her servos, rubbing them carefully. "Arcee," he said, her name a pleasant sound when he said it. Despite it all, he still made an effort to say her name.

She looked up into his optics, her spark reaching out to his as the intended bond between them reacted to the feelings that surged between them. She leaned in close before kissing him once more, this time slowly as they cherished the moment they had stolen.

She did not need to worry about being caught. There was no more hiding, no more secrets. She did not need to sneak around with him, she did not have to worry. This, what was between her and Bumblebee, was not tainted by the fear of being discovered; just as it should be.

They broke apart, and Arcee smiled as her memories stirred with the recollection of when she had revealed to him that she knew he was the Heir.

Bumblebee stared at her at her as her smile grew. "What's funny?" he asked.

She chuckled. "Remember when I told you who I was? Who I truly was?"

He rolled his optics as he snorted in amusement. "I still thought the drugs Ratchet pumped through me addled my brain!"

She laughed. "I think Ratchet was more flustered when he found me asleep in your arms in the med bay."

He shook his helm. "He was just startled when I specifically told him not to...kick out my sparkmate in my moment of distress," Bumblebee said, wincing at the stutter that was in his tone.

"Yep," she agreed with a firm nod, tracing his scars thoughtfully, causing him to shiver at her touch. He enjoyed it when she did that, just as she suspected. "Definitely the drugs."

"But it was true," he said.

"The drugs?" she asked with a smirk, eyeing him with amusement.

He rolled his optics at her teasing. "You being my sparkmate," he said honestly.

"But bold for you, wouldn't you say?" she said wryly.

He shrugged, leaning forward to nuzzle her neck. "Bold for a pilot," he said.

She sighed as she remembered the fantasy they had created, the one they so desperately wanted. But if she could have Bumblebee at her side, she would gladly accept any life.

"We should go," she said softly.

He nodded. "We should."

But they didn't. Not for another hour. They just stayed in each others embrace until the pressure of time urged them to leave the small balcony. Bumblebee went first and helped Arcee down through the trapdoor. She did not need help at all, but she enjoyed the feeling of Bumblebee's servos on her waist.

They walked down the halls, servos connected as their steps became unhurried and calm. Both knew that the chaos of the next few days would leave them with little time to themselves, so they seized whatever moment of peace they had together.

Bumblebee let go of Arcee's servo before he put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his touch, closing her optics briefly as she sighed.

"There you are!" a sudden voice shrieked.

Arcee stiffened up as she turned to glare at Starscream who was striding toward them with a scowl. His very appearance seemed irritated as he noticed Bumblebee. "Do you have any idea how many Cybertronians are looking for you two!"

"Really?" Arcee asked icly. "Did you miss me already, Starscream?"

His scowl deepened. "Hardly!" he snorted. "But Lord Megatron is demanding your presence." His optics flickered over to Bumblebee. "And I know your Prime is beginning to wonder where you have been as well."

Bumblebee sighed, though he did not remove his arm from Arcee's shoulders. "Best not to keep him waiting," Arcee admitted reluctantly.

"Best hurry up!" Starscream exclaimed. "You wasted two hours frolicking around with your intended, and we only have half an hour left to get you both ready for the ceremony!"

Arcee brightened up, and she could see Bumblebee beaming. "Half an hour?" he asked.

"We can see each other much sooner now!" Arcee said with a smirk, knowing her comment was grating on Starscream's nerves. She reached up and placed a quick kiss on Bumblebee's cheek. "I shall see you soon," she said with a wink before leaving quickly with Starscream scampering after her.

She endured Megatron's disapproved glare, and Soundwave's sympathetic glances as well as Ark's smirk's of amusement. In truth, it all became a blur to her as she allowed Knock Out to touch up her paint job. As an after thought, she told Knock Out to highlight the pink, just to make it a bit brighter so that it would stand out.

Who knows? She might wear pink for the one week getaway that had been organized for her and Bumblebee once they became mates.

Bumblebee was not facing the same disapproved looks from Optimus that Arcee was experiencing from Megatron. In fact, he was feeling incredibly nervous know that he had a moment to think and dwell on the event that was coming up.

Arcee and he were to become mates. It was almost unreal.

When Arcee had whispered to him when he was resting on that med bay table that she was the Decepticon Heir, he had thought he was hallucinating. Then, she had teasingly told him that she knew who he truly was.

He hadn't been able to believe it. Primus, he was still trying to believe that such a wonderful chance like that had occurred to him.

His injured voice box had been unable to express the shock and joy he had felt when she revealed her lineage. So instead, in that moment, he had kissed her almost senseless.

Now, as his thoughts wandered, he was reminded of all they had been through that brought them to this moment. Secrecy, death, violence, triumph; it had shaped who they were and made them stronger in themselves and in each other in the end. Instead of driving them apart with grief and rage, it had brought them closer together.

Thinking of his damaged voice, he reached up to gently touched his throat. He winced, lowering his servo down. He let out a deep breath as he straightened up. He was determined to use his voice to this day properly. Though Arcee did not see a blemish when she saw his scars. She did not hear a flaw when he struggled to speak. If anything, it changed nothing. She touched his scars carefully and tenderly, only interested in him and him alone when she saw him. His appearance and ability to transform into a predacon meant nothing to her as well, as long as he was with her.

These thoughts followed him as he prepared to walk down the dimly lit hallway alone. But before he crossed that threshold, Optimus Prime stopped him gently. Bumblebee looked up at Optimus to see the Prime smiling encouragingly at him, and Bumblebee smiled back. No words needed to be said between them; a look was all it took.

Reassured and with barely controlled eagerness, Bumblebee walked down the hallway, his steps brisk and full of purpose. Not too far ahead, he saw Arcee emerge, fierce and mighty as the Decepticon Heir. It seemed to take an eternity for him to reach her, and when he did, he took her face in his servos and kissed her tenderly.

When he pulled away reluctantly, he noticed with faint amusement how her pink highlights were significantly brighter.

With a wordless smile, Arcee took his arm and they both walked down the hall that was beginning to light up. The large windows were open, and Bumblebee slowed when he saw the crowd awaiting below. Though it was not the size that caught his attention, but the Cybertronians at the front.

He caught sight of Smokescreen standing tall and pristine, his blue optics searching, yet bright. Not too far away was Firestar, a lethal grace like she belonged there. Indeed, Bumblebee could see where some would mistake her for the Autobot Heir. He could see Prowl standing not too far from Smokescreen and the other Selectedes, with Jazz, Ultra Magnus and many other dignitaries nearby. Not too far was Moonracer, her armor bright and easy to spot as she leaned into the embrace of her mate, Mirage, who had indeed met Bumblebee's standards, as reluctant as he was to admit it.

His optics flickered over to where Elita-One's soldiers and fellow femme comrades resided, and his optics were drawn to Chromia who was heading toward Ironhide, not caring about decorum at all. Red Alert stood upright and relaxed with a bright smile, her expression light. Bumblebee grinned knowingly as he noticed a large Decepticon mech make his way toward her detirmidly. Apparently he did not care about decorum either as he took Red Alert's servos into his own.

A shadow of movement up ahead caught his gaze, and Bumblebee looked up with a frown as he scanned the skies. His frown deepened as he wondered what he had seen. The being was too large to be a seeker.

His spark stilled as a forbidden thought occurred. Could it have been the predacons?

Another flash caught his attention, and he knew without a doubt that it was a predacon. Which one, he did not know, but it served to remind him of his promise to Predaking: to make things right for the face of the predacons.

He would not forget his promise to them. How could he when a part of him was a predacon as well?

Arcee came to stand at his side, gently touching him. "What is it?" she asked.

He tore his gaze away from the window to look at her, and his worries eased somewhat. No, he would worry about the predacons later. Today was to be a momentous occasion for him, for them.

Instead, he allowed Arcee to lead him before the large doors that would take them out to the balcony for all to see. They stopped before it, both nervous with anticipation.

He looked at her with a smile, expression bright. "Almost there," he said, kissing her servo.

She smiled up at him, his warrior mate ever so strong and passionate. "Almost," she agreed.

Servos clasped together and with a promise ahead of them, they both stepped forward when the doors were opened for them and out to greet the awaiting crowd of Cybertronians.


End file.
